


Hope Has a Place

by Eriador117



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Out of Character, Remus Bashing, Sexual Content, Sexual violence and abuse, Underage in some areas 16/17+
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 03:17:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 18
Words: 40,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9053029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eriador117/pseuds/Eriador117
Summary: What happens when you discover your whole existence was based on a lie? Who do you turn when those you trusted have let you down?





	1. One

Harry woke up panting loudly, the bedclothes a sweaty tangle around his legs. He'd had the nightmare again, the one he could never remember when he woke up. The only thing he knew for sure was that this nightmare was nothing to do with Voldemort as his scar didn't burn and he didn't have the nausea he usually had after visions sent by Voldemort.

At least in Grimmauld Place he had a room of his own and didn't have to worry about disturbing his dorm mates with his screaming anymore. He put a silencing charm on anyway, he didn't want to disturb Remus with his nightmares. Although Harry didn't remember the contents of the nightmare, he supposed that he might have been dreaming about Sirius falling through the veil. He couldn't think what else he might have had nightmares about so frequently. It had been almost two years since his godfather fell, but sometimes it felt to Harry as if it had happened mere moments ago.

The nightmares only really started three weeks ago, back when Snape began giving him Occlumency lessons again. It was Dumbledore's idea of course, neither Harry nor Snape wanted to do it, but the headmaster had a way of making people do things they'd rather not.

Harry glanced at the alarm clock on his bedside table, eight o'clock. Snape would be there at nine for the start of that day's Occlumency lesson. Then it would be three hours of Snape invading his memories and Harry trying to repel him, then they would have lunch with Remus, then another four hours of Occlumency unless Snape was called away to a Death Eater meeting.

Harry was frustrated that he wasn't getting any further with the lessons. He was not able to repel Snape completely and although Snape had given him permission to perform legilimancy on Snape, Harry was still unable to break through the man's defences and get into his mind. 

Over the past few weeks they'd both come to some sort of understanding, although neither of them could pretend that they were even friends as of yet, they were friendlier than they had been in a long time. Neither of them ever mentioned the memory Harry had seen in Snape's pensieve. But sometimes during their lessons, it hung in the air between them like an unwanted guest at a feast.

After showering and getting dressed, Harry made his way downstairs for breakfast. Lupin had left a note on the kitchen table.

_Harry,_

_I'll be out all day today, I thought it best if you have some privacy for your lessons with Professor Snape._

_Look after yourself,_  
Remus.  


Harry replaced the note on the table, feeling a little odd as he read it. He felt... relieved. Why would he feel like that? Didn't he want Remus here with him? Remus had looked after him ever since Albus had removed him from the Dursleys' towards the end of the summer, why did he have such an odd feeling whenever he was around the werewolf?

By the time he'd thought things through, the more confused Harry got and he had barely eaten his toast before Snape Apparated into the kitchen with a loud pop. "Potter," he was greeted.

"Professor," said Harry, nodding his head and brushing crumbs from his tee-shirt.

"Are you ready to begin your lessons for today, Potter?"

"Sir, before we start, can I ask you something?"

Snape raised an eyebrow at him. "That depends on what it is. There are some things I cannot tell you."

"Oh, it's not about you," said Harry. "It's me. When you're in my mind, do you see everything?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's just a feeling I have. I think there's a memory in there that I've forgotten. I know it's there, but I don't know what it is. I have a nightmare too, but I don't remember it when I wake up. I think they're both connected. Is there anyway you could try and access it with Occlumency?"

"Harry, do you know what you are asking?"

Harry was a little startled to hear his first name from Snape. He must have rattled the man for him to let that slip.

"No, not exactly," admitted Harry. "What am I asking?"

"What you are asking me to do is usually only something family or lovers would share. It is surprisingly intimate. You are inviting me into your mind, you will have to allow me in. It will not be that I will see things accidentally before you can push me out, I will see everything that is in your head, your every thought, every emotion, every memory. Do you really want me to see all that? Do you want me to know who you think of when you masturbate for example?"

Harry blushed, but not for the reasons Snape thought.

Erm, I don't," admitted Harry.

"You don't want me to do this?"

"I don't masturbate," replied Harry.

Snape laughed. "Good one, Potter. I've never known a teenage boy not to masturbate, myself included."

"It's true!" hissed Harry through clenched teeth. "If you must know I'm impotent!"

Oh, God, he'd said it. He'd said it to Snape of all people. He would never live with the humiliation. Harry felt tears forming at the edges of his eyes, he bit his cheek to try and prevent them from spilling over. This was not happening. He was not about to burst into tears in front of Snape. He wasn't. He wasn't.

"Harry, do you want to talk about it?" asked Snape in a gentle voice.

That gentle tone undid him, so unexpected as it was, and the tears fell from his eyes, sliding beneath his glasses.

"Why?" he sniffed.

"I just thought talking about it might help. It doesn't have to be with me. What about Professor Lupin or the headmaster? Would you rather talk to them?"

Harry shook his head, he couldn't imagine telling the headmaster anything about his sex life or lack thereof, and as for Remus, well he just didn't want to. But could he talk to Snape about this? Did he want to talk to Snape about this?

"I don't want to talk to them," said Harry through his tears.

"What about me? Will you let me help?"

Harry nodded and went to make a cup of tea, more for something to do than that he actually wanted any.

"How do you know you're impotent, Harry? Maybe you just had an off night?" suggested Snape. "What experience have you had, Harry?"

"A few kisses," admitted Harry. "Other than that, nothing."

Have you ever masturbated at all?"

"No, never."

"Might I ask why? What do you do if you have an erection that just won't go away?"

"That's the problem, I don't have erections at all. I've never had one."

"Never? What about wet dreams?"

"The same, I've never had one."

Snape stared at him then, his eyes lingering over every bit of Harry he could see, from his head right down to his toes. "Erm, you do seem to have... developed," said Snape with a blush.

"Yes," agreed Harry. "Puberty has been and gone, other than the fact that I've never had a sexual response, I suppose I'm fairly healthy."

"What about desire? Do you feel anything at all?"

"I start to, but then nothing happens down below and it goes away as soon as I start to feel anything remotely sexual. I feel... I feel scared, Professor, but I don't know why. How many men do you know who are afraid of their own body?"

"You're afraid of yourself? Why?"

"I don't know exactly. It's more a feeling I get. I'm afraid of my body's responses. It's like I don't want to get excited, that it would mean something very bad if I did. Do you think it might be connected to the hidden memories?"

"It could be," said Snape. "But are you sure you want to allow me to do that, Harry? The feelings it can cause between two wizards can be very intense."

"What sort of feelings?" asked Harry, genuinely curious. A few years ago, he might have considered that Snape might have done this without his permission, but he was slowly getting to know the man better and he knew deep down in his bones that at heart Snape was an honourable man and would not do this without explicit permission from Harry. Why was he so worried about it?

"Are you a virgin, Harry?"

Harry nodded, he was sure Snape had already figured that out when Harry had mentioned that his only other experiences had been a few kisses. What did that have to do with anything? Snape answered the question, even though Harry hadn't asked it out loud.

"For wizards, sex and magic go hand in hand. There is a lot of power in sex. When a wizard or witch first makes love, they come into their full power, power they weren't even aware of existed until it happened to them. The wizard, thinking that this extra power came from their partner, fall desperately in love with that person, their first sexual partner. The feelings and power are so intense, but what they don't realise is that the power comes from within themselves, not any external force or person. What you are asking me to do to your mind is even more intimate than sex, Harry."

Harry swallowed. "So you're saying that if I let you into my mind, I'll fall in love with you?"

"It has been known to happen between people who share their minds this way, yes."

"So you'll fall in love with me too?"

"No," replied Snape. "I'm already in love with you."

Harry stared at his professor, shocked. He'd never thought to hear those words from the man's lips. The world must surely be ending.

"Y- you're in love with me? Since when?"

"I'm not sure, it was more of a gradual process. Don't worry, I don't intend to do anything about it. You are still my student. I would never abuse that trust. I just thought you ought to know." Snape hung his head, as though he was ashamed of what he'd just admitted.

Harry just stared at him, his mind reeling. Snape was in love with him? Snape? Who Harry thought hated him with a vengeance. This was a bit much to take in. Here he was, a few days shy of his seventeenth birthday and his professor told him he was in love with him. It was certainly not the sort of present he would ever have anticipated. Harry knew that he risked falling for the professor too if the allowed the man free reign into his mind, but he was determined to find out what his own mind had been hiding from him. Snape was the only one who had the skills necessary to do it, Harry was as sure of that as he was sure that the sun was coming up tomorrow and that Voldemort still wanted to kill him.

"I want you to try," said Harry, reaching out and holding Snape's hand. Snape jerked away as though Harry's touch had burned him. "I trust you," continued Harry. "I know you would never do anything to hurt me."

"What if the emotions caused by our minds merging is too strong? What if you don't want ...to push me away?"

"I know you, professor. I know how controlled you are. You would never let things get that far. You would not take advantage of me."

"How do you know?" hissed Snape. "Maybe I'd use your emotional state to try and seduce you, we don't know what will happen, do we?"

"Let's stop worrying about what might happen. Let's just try and access my memories, okay?" Harry was surprised how steady his voice sounded. He was terrified and excited all at once.

"Very well then, Harry. Remember, do not try and block me. Let me into your mind, all of it. Breathe deeply, feel every breath going in and out of your body, feel every beat of your heart, listen to the thrumming in your ears. Close you eyes and just see."

Harry obeyed, glad that they'd started with Snape's normal meditation technique. Harry and Snape were no longer in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place, they were in Harry's mind, which he visualised this time as a long corridor with thousands of doors leading off it. All of the doors were white, except for one at the far end which was black.

Snape turned the handles of a few white doors, but came out again. Behind each door was one of Harry's memories. Behind that one; Ripper chasing him up a tree, there; Sirius falling through the veil; there, Harry's first broom ride, the first time Vernon hit him. There were plenty more, but Harry didn't bother looking, he knew what was in those rooms, it was the room at the end, the black door, that's what he needed to see.

Almost as he thought it, he and Snape were in front of it.

"This is it," said Snape. "This door, someone has Obliviated you."

"I knew it!" growled Harry in triumph. "I always felt like something was missing. How do we get in?"

"We don't. You stay here, seeing it like this could put you in shock."

"How will I know what's in there, then?"

"Because I will tell you, it will not be so much of a shock if you hear the memory second hand as it were."

"Do you promise to tell me?"

It took a long time before Snape would answer.

"I will, Harry. I promise."

***

Snape almost regretted those words as soon as he said them. Harry knew he would not go back on his promise, but when Snape walked through that black door, into the memory that had been hidden from Harry, he wished he hadn't spoken.

It was as if he'd walked into a nightmare, Harry's nightmare.

Harry was in the Astronomy tower, bent low over one of the desks, his trousers and underpants pulled down around his ankles. He was pinned there by a much larger, much heavier body. Snape only saw it from the back, but that was enough. He wanted to get out, but the black door had shut firmly behind him and he could not escape what was happening to Harry.

"No, please, no!" screamed Harry as the man thrust again and again into his unwilling captive. "I'm not James! I'm Harry!" the boy protested, but to no avail.

"Who's Harry?" demanded the voice. "Roleplay, I like that."

"No, professor, please stop!" begged Harry.

Professor? Snape stared hard at the man's back, willing him to look round. Snape tried to move round to the front to see who it was, but the only angle his mind could see was this view from the back. Obviously Harry's mind was also keeping from himself the knowledge of who his rapist was.

Harry looked young, much younger than he was now, he couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen in the memory. Snape shuddered at the thought of someone taking his innocence in such a way. A teacher abusing that trust that Snape had sworn to Harry he would never betray, but who was it? Who had crossed that line?

"Oh, I'm your professor, James? You've been a naughty boy? And is this your punishment? Wicked."

"I'm Harry, I'm Harry," sobbed the boy on the desk, over and over again. Snape felt his heart splinter into tiny pieces within his chest. How dare someone do this to Harry? A professor? It didn't seem possible, and why would any of his teachers mistake him for James? Not even Snape could make that mistake.

And then Snape saw it, sitting on the edge of the desk next to Harry's elbow, one of Snape's own silver goblets. The goblet he used to give Lupin his Wolfsbane in before the full moon. Lupin. It was Remus Lupin.

And then the memory changed, a different day, a different place; the DADA classroom this time, but Lupin was raping him again. It had happened more than once. Snape even in his mind felt sick.

Suddenly Snape was snatched back from Harry's mind with a viciousness so intense it gave him a headache.

He groaned and looked at Harry, who was looking at him with an air of expectation. Snape did so not want to tell him about this.

"Where's Lupin?" asked Snape.

"He's gone out. Left a note. Well, professor? What was in my memory?"

"Harry, what do you remember about your Patronus lessons with him?"

"What do you mean?"

"Were you always alone with him?"

"What are you implying?"

"Harry - I - I saw -" but Snape couldn't do it, couldn't be the one to tell him about this.

"Tell me!" demanded Harry. "Tell me what you saw!"

"Harry, I saw Lupin rape you in third year."

"No, that's a lie! He would never do that, never. Why are you lying?"

"I'm not lying, Harry. Go into my mind, you will see what I saw. It isn't a lie, I promise you."

Harry just glared at him for a moment before he cast Legilimens and entered Snape's mind. Snape could feel him in there and sense when he'd reached that particular memory, a few moments later Harry's touch was withdrawn.

Harry blinked, once, twice, then rushed over to the sink where he was violently sick. Snape dithered for a few moments, then marched to the sink and stood hovering there beside Harry. He wanted to comfort him, but was unsure how Harry would feel about being touched after what he'd just witnessed.

"I can't believe he did it, he really did it," gasped Harry. "What am I going to do? How am I ever going to face him again?"

"You don't have to," said Snape. "We can tell Dumbledore and Lupin will be sent to Azkaban."

"No!" said Harry, whirling round to face Snape. Silent tears were dripping down his cheeks.

"Harry, the man raped you, violated you. Do you want him to get away with it?"

"I don't want him to go to Azkaban because of me. But I can't face him, I can't look at him. I can't stay here, knowing that he's here."

"Do you want me to take you to the Burrow?" asked Snape, feeling his voice crack. He would not be able to visit Harry once he was ensconced in the Weasley stronghold. But it was probably the best place for Harry to come to terms with had happened to him.

"No," said Harry. "I want to go back to school. I want to stay with you."

"Why?"

"Because I trust you, I believe you."

"Believe me? About what?"

"That even though you're in love with me, you won't do anything about it until I leave school. I need that time, Professor. I need someone I can talk to about this, someone who won't use it against me. My friends wouldn't understand, no-one would. They all thought Professor Lupin was brilliant, except for you. You can help me. Will you?" Harry sobbed out the last word and Snape didn't think, didn't analyse anything, he stepped as close to Harry as he could and hugged him with all his strength.

Harry sobbed against Snape's robes, his arms wrapped around Snape's back, squeezing back just as tight.

It had never felt so right to have someone in his arms.

Just then Lupin floo'd into the kitchen, took one look at Snape and Harry. Snape's eyes told Lupin all he needed to know. There was knowledge in those dark pools, knowledge and a warning. Lupin nodded and hurried away, before Harry had seen him. Lupin would never see Harry Potter again, not if Snape had anything to do with it.

Snape tightened his grip on Harry.

He would never let him go.


	2. Chapter 2

**Two**

"Professor?" asked Harry softly as he felt the man holding him stiffen. "What is it?"

"Nothing," replied Snape quickly, much too quickly. It was a lie. And after what had just happened, there was only one reason why Snape would lie to him.

"Oh, God," moaned Harry. "He's back isn't he? Remus?" If it wasn't for the support of Snape's strong arms he was sure he would have collapsed on the floor in an undignified heap. His knees threatened to buckle beneath him and he was aware of Snape struggling to hold him upright. Harry whimpered like a cornered animal.

"Ssh, Harry. It's all right. I won't let him hurt you."

Harry nodded, his throat too constricted with emotion to speak.

In his head, he knew what had happened to him took place years ago, but since the memory was only discovered a few moments ago, his body felt as if the violation had only just happened and Harry was on the verge of a full out panic attack. His body was awash with adrenaline and terror, getting ready to fight or flee, but since the professor's strong grip on him prevented either action, he began to hyperventilate. Pins and needles darted along his arms and legs, his tongue felt swollen in his mouth. His hands clawed at his face, trying to get air in.

He was dying. He was going to die right here in Snape's arms. Everything went white as he passed out.

When he came to, he was lying prone on a sofa with Snape bending over him. Snape pushed his fringe out of his eyes and heaved a relieved sigh. Harry tried to sit up, but dizziness assailed him again and Snape pushed him back onto the sofa with a firm push on his chest.

"You need to keep still, Harry. You've been out for a while. I thought I might have to take you to the hospital wing."

"No! Please, I don't want anyone else to know what happened to me." Harry hung his head, feeling so ashamed. He was a wizard, why couldn't he have stopped Remus from hurting him? 

"Harry, look at me," commanded Snape, tilting Harry's head up. "You did nothing wrong, do you hear me? If I seem angry about this, I am, but not with you, do you understand? It wasn't your fault. He was a grown man who abused you. You are not to blame. It wasn't your fault, do you hear me?"

"Yes, sir."

"And do you believe it?"

It took a few moments before Harry could even answer. "No, sir. Not really."

"Maybe not yet," agreed Snape. "But you will. I promise you that."

Snape stood up, smoothing down his robes and disappeared from Harry's sight. When he returned, he had a glass of water in one hand. A few ice cubes clinked against the side of the glass. "This might help with the dizzy spells," said Snape, helping Harry up to a semi-reclining position on the sofa. Harry couldn't prevent the small shiver of fear as the other man touched him.

Much to his relief, Snape didn't let his touch linger, but sat down on his haunches and watched Harry drain the glass of the cool liquid inside it. Harry hadn't realised how thirsty he'd been. The water did help with the light head Harry had been suffering from and he took the opportunity that he wasn't going to faint again to have a look round the room.

He'd known as soon as he came to that they were no longer in Grimmauld Place and the only conclusion he could come to was that they were in Snape's private quarters at Hogwarts. The sofa he was lying on was a soft, black leather, that seemed to mould to the shape of the person sitting in it. Like the rest of the castle, the walls and floor were bare stone, but a large fire was blazing in the hearth. In front of it was a fluffy, cream sheepskin rug. Harry had the most childish urge to take off his socks and shoes and wriggle his toes in it. He wondered if Snape could tell what he was thinking.

"I suppose we ought to tell the headmaster," Snape mused.

"No!" protested Harry sharply, more sharply than he had intended. "Please, sir, please don't tell him. I don't want him to be disappointed in me."

Snape arched an elegant brow. "Would you like to explain that statement?"

"I - I overheard Professor Dumbledore talking with Mrs. Weasley after the last Order meeting. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but then I heard them talking about me, so I stayed."

"And what did you hear that would think the headmaster could ever be disappointed in you?"

"Mrs. Weasley was upset that Charlie hadn't waited until he was married, that he'd thrown his virginity away on some worthless... er, someone worthless and that now his magic would never be pure. He was sullied. Just like me."

"Harry, you will listen to me and you will listen good, that conversation you heard had nothing to do with magic or purity or whatever. It was Molly Weasley mouthing off because she does not like Charlie's girlfriend, nothing more. You are not sullied, don't you dare think that! I won't allow it. I know that you feel as if you are, but there is nothing dirty or shameful about you, do you hear me?" Snape's voice rose to a shout on the last few words and Harry shrank back against the sofa as if trying to escape him.

"Sorry," mumbled Snape. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay."

"No, it isn't. But we still have to tell the headmaster that you're here, Harry. The dorms are magically sealed until the first of September. He has to let you in. It's almost a month until term starts, have you thought of a reason as to why you are back at school so early?"

"I was hoping I wouldn't need an excuse. That no-one would know I'm here."

"What do you mean?"

"I meant what I said. I wanted to stay with you. Here." Harry felt his whole face crumple. Maybe back at the house he'd misunderstood. Didn't Snape want him here after all? But that might just have been him being an idiot as per usual.

"Harry," drawled Snape slowly. "You don't mean to say that you expected to stay here? That you anticipated, that you wanted to stay here in the dungeons for a month?"

"With you," Harry barely squeaked the words out from his throat. He didn't quite know why, but he just knew that the other man comforted him with his presence and at the moment he needed all the comforting he could get. Maybe he was starting to see the Potions master in a new light after they'd shared the mind sharing spell, but he just knew that he wanted to stay here. He wanted to be allowed to stay here.

But it was a futile wish. Why would Snape want to be saddled with an overly emotional almost seventeen year old teenager? He was probably trying to think of a way to let Harry down gently. Harry had no pride left. He would beg if he had to.

"Please, sir, I can sleep on the floor or the sofa, I don't mind." It wouldn't be any worse than his cupboard.

"You will do no such thing!" roared Snape and Harry managed not to jump ten feet in the air. "I didn't mean to startle you, Harry, sorry. All I meant was that you will be a guest and guests do not sleep on the floor or on the sofa."

"It's quite a comfy sofa," said Harry, risking a grin. God, his emotions were all over the place today.

"It is," agreed Snape. "For me. You will have my bedroom for as long as you wish to stay."

Forever thought Harry, but he didn't voice it.

"I don't want to impose," began Harry, worried that he'd kicked the man out of his own bed.

"It will not be an imposition, I assure you. Why don't you rest and I will make us some lunch."

"I'm not really hungry. I feel a bit sick," he admitted. "I don't think I could keep anything down right now."

"Very well, but I will try and feed you later. You're far too thin," said Snape, almost to himself. Snape waved his hands about the room and torches flared on the walls, illuminating more bookshelves than Harry had seen in the library.

"Wow! You have a lot of books. Hermione would be jealous."

"You can read whatever books you like from these shelves. I keep the Dark Arts books locked in a trunk in my cellar."

Harry gaped at him and was rewarded with a sly smile. "Can't you tell when I'm joking?"

Harry shook his head. No, he couldn't. He didn't even know the Potions master could joke. It was a very pleasant surprise. Snape wandered over to one of the shelves and perused the books. He looked deep in thought and Harry really didn't want to disturb him, but he was on the verge of another fully blown panic attack just thinking about it.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Harry?" Snape turned back round, his eyes a shade darker than the coal in the fireplace.

"Would you - would you come with me?"

"Where?"

"All my stuff is still there," said Harry, hoping that would be enough. He could barely think of it, never mind name it.

"No, Harry, I won't go with you. You will stay right there on that sofa until I return with all of your things. You are not going back to that house, back to him."

"Thank you, sir," said Harry but as well as feeling relieved that he wouldn't have to face Remus, he was also worried what might happen with the two of them alone together with wands. "Professor? Promise me you won't do anything to him? Promise?"

"Oh, there's plenty I want to do to him, Harry. But I won't."

"Promise me," pleaded Harry. He knew Snape would not break his word.

"I promise," sighed Snape and grabbed a handful of floo powder from the jar on the mantelpiece.

Harry wasn't so sure whether he believed him this time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Three**

When Snape floo'd into the kitchen at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, it was with a heavy heart and an itchy wand hand. Lupin had been expecting him and was sitting grimly by the table. Harry's trunk was beside him, an empty owl cage perched on top of it.

"You know," said Lupin. It wasn't a question.

"Yes, I know," snarled Snape. "Well, aren't you going to deny it? Plead innocence?"

"No. What would be the point?"

"Come near him again and I'll castrate you. The Muggle way. Lots of pain and lots of blood. Just what you gave to Harry."

"There wasn't any blood," whispered Lupin.

"What? Do you think I want to stand here and listen to you explain the details of how you raped a thirteen year old boy? You sicken me." Snape placed a shrinking spell on Harry's trunk and then turned to glare at his former colleague. "Harry worshipped you! You were like a father to him, or so he thought. How was he to know that you only wanted to see him alone so that you could abuse him? Well, let's hear it then. Let's hear your excuses, your explanation for such a betrayal."

"There are none. I was wrong. I shouldn't have done it."

"No, you shouldn't, but you did it anyway."

"It wasn't like that!" protested Lupin, but Snape wasn't listening. Nothing the werewolf said could make this any better. Harry had been hurt, had been hurt by someone he thought of as a friend, someone he trusted and Snape knew that hurt Harry more than the rape had. He had so few people he truly trusted.

"No? What was it like, then?"

"I - I thought he was James."

"That's your excuse? You mistook him for one of your lovers? And what about when he was screaming for you to stop? Did you still mistake him for James then?"

Lupin didn't answer, Snape hadn't really expected him to. 

"I was in his mind, Lupin. He invited me in. I saw what you did to him, not just once. Oh, you weren't satisfied with just the once, were you? I felt his fear, his humilation. Things that you caused him. Is that how you look after your friends' son, Lupin? The boy is terrified of his own body because of what you did to him."

"Oh, you're enjoying this, aren't you?" growled Lupin. "You've always wanted to turn Harry against me, haven't you? Couldn't bear to have him near me, could you?"

"I didn't turn Harry against you, Lupin. You did that yourself when you raped him."

"Oh, it must gall you, Severus, mustn't it? That I got to him first. Pity it's all a bit fuzzy, I never really remember what happens just before the full moon. But he's spoiled for you now, isn't he? I know you always like to be first."

"Fuzzy? Is that all you can say after what you did to him? I should kill you with my bare hands." Snape's knuckles tensed on his wand.

"I won't stop you." Lupin paused and then gave a strange smile. "No, but Harry would, wouldn't he? That''s it, isn't it? Harry made you promise not to hurt me."

Snape didn't deign to answer that. If he stayed in the werewolf's company much longer, promise or not, he knew he was not going to be able to reign in his temper.

"What's the matter, Severus? No reply? Or is it that you don't want to hear the truth? Do you think I'm blind? I've seen the way you look at him. I can smell you, the lust on you. For Harry. But he won't let you near him, will he? Too frightened to be touched, is he? Have you wondered why he doesn't want you to harm me? Hmm? Maybe he enjoyed it after all."

Snape didn't bother with his wand. He punched Lupin so hard that the toppled from the chair. Blood flew from Lupin's nose and mouth and it was as though Snape was seeing things through a red haze. He could not stop, there was a sickening crunch of bone as he broke Lupin's nose, but the werewolf didn't even try to defend himself. He was laughing hysterically, accepting every punch from Snape as though he wanted them.

A white projectile hit Snape on the cheek, one of Lupin's teeth and still Snape didn't stop until Lupin was a wheezing mass of mangled flesh beneath him. Snape stood up, his knuckles stinging, but he felt a lot better. He couldn't bring himself to care how Lupin felt.

Lupin sat up, wiping blood from his face. "Why didn't you finish it?" demanded Lupin. "I deserve it."

"I'm not your conscience, or your executioner. You want to die, Lupin? You'll do it without me."

"Have you kissed him yet? Have you tasted those soft lips? Shall I tell you how he was, Snape? So hot and tight, such an eager little-"

The curse was said before Snape had even given it much thought. Lupin was bound to a chair by his hands and legs, a scarf in his mouth serving as an effective gag. Snape could not bear to listen to one more word. He knew the werewolf was only doing it to provoke him and his patience was rapidly running out.

He bent close to Lupin's ear. "Not to worry, Lupin. There's an Order meeting tomorrow. You'll be all tied up until then." Snape pressed his wand to Lupin's temple and he felt the werewolf shudder in relief. He wailed in despair, muffled by the the gag, when Snape did nothing more than heal the wounds he'd just inflicted.

"You will not touch Harry again," growled Snape, clasping Lupin's genitals in his fist. "If you do, I'll hack off your balls and stuff them down your throat. Are we clear?"

Lupin barely managed a nod. Snape let go and picked up Harry's trunk, stuffing it in his pocket before heading for the fireplace.

He was hoping that Harry might have fallen asleep in his absence, but he was not to be granted that reprieve.

Harry took one look at the bloodstained robes, the scraped knuckles and he bounded up from the sofa, his tear stained face a study in betrayal.

"You promised!" sobbed Harry. "You promised!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Four**

Harry lay in Snape’s bed, curled up in a ball. Much to his surprise, Snape’s bed was not some gigantic four poster with carved snakes and Slytherin green and silver bedding. The bed itself was a normal sized double, with a wrought iron bedstead to hold the mattress. The bedding was a pale blue cotton, with small white flowers embroidered on it. It was a soothing sort of room but Harry wasn’t sure he wanted soothing.

He still hadn’t stopped crying since Snape returned from his run in with Lupin. He couldn’t stop the tears no more than he could stop the sun from rising. He’d believed Snape, believed him when he’d said that he wouldn’t harm Lupin, but the bloodied robes and scratched hands told another story.

And if Snape had lied about that, what other promises would he be prepared to break?

Specifically his promise that he wouldn't even attempt to pursue Harry until he'd left school?

Harry was appalled to find himself even thinking of it, but he could not deny that the thoughts were there. What if Snape were to do to him what Lupin had? Was this how it was going to be for him from now on? Thinking of every male he knew, not as friends or teachers, but as potential rapists?

Harry shuddered, his tears drying to a trickle and decided to have a shower. When he ventured out to the living room, he saw Snape perched on an armchair, a glass of firewhiskey in his hand. Their eyes met and Harry wondered if maybe staying here might not have been the best idea, but he didn't know where else he could go.

"I'm sorry, Harry," said Snape, looking into his glass as though he could find the answers to the universe in its amber depths.

"I'm going to have a shower, then I'm going to bed," said Harry. He didn't acknowledge the apology. So Snape was sorry, was he? Sorry that he'd broken a promise? Harry knew that things between the both of them would continue to be strained until he could talk about all that was bothering him, but he was feeling too fragile for a heart to heart tonight. Maybe after he had his shower and had a good night's sleep, maybe then he could talk.

Snape's bathroom was more luxurious that Harry would ever have anticipated. A sunken claw footed bathtub was the centrepiece, and around the walls were shelves of hundreds of cleansing potions and shampoos. Why was Snape's hair so greasy if he had all of these at his disposal? A shower was installed over the bath, but now that he'd seen the size of the tub, Harry was tempted to have a long soak and wash all his cares away. He selected a bottle from one of the shelves an filled the bath with lavender scented bubbles.

He sighed as he sank into the warm water, leaning his head back and just relaxing in the bouyancy. A conjured sponge and bar of soap later, he began washing himself, starting with his neck. It was as his ministrations began to get lower on his body that he panicked. He closed his eyes, trying to banish the memory, but with his eyes closed that only brought it in to sharper focus.

He remembered, he could feel Lupin's hands on him as he held Harry down, crushing him against the desk. Harry could almost feel the desk biting into his stomach and hear his cries as he pleaded with Lupin to stop.

Harry's breath hitched on a sob. He was so dirty, so foul. He scrubbed himself fiercely, rubbing his whole body red raw, trying to get the werewolf's scent off him, his secretions all over his body. Harry attacked his genitals with the sponge, almost as though it was his own body that had done this to him.

It was no use, a bath wouldn't clean him. Harry unplugged the bath, stood up and turned on the shower, the water was a little cold when it first ran, so he turned it up as far as he could stand it. His skin was blistering in the heat, but he barely noticed. He had to get clean. He was so dirty. He had to get clean. 

Snape wouldn't want him when he knew how dirty Harry really was. Snape would send him away.

He conjured a scrubbing brush, it looked like the one his aunt used to scrub floors, the bristles were hard and uncomfortable, but he didn't care. Had to get clean.

Harry scrubbed himself so hard that it was hurting, but he could bear the pain if only he could get clean. He had to get clean.

He deserved the pain, didn't he? He was so filthy, so vile, unclean. He wasn't pure any more and he knew Snape saw him differently because of it.

The shower spluttered, the water turned cold and soothed his burning skin somewhat, but he didn't deserve to be soothed. He was still dirty, still filthy. He had to get clean.

But the scrubbing brush wasn't doing the job, he couldn't get Remus out of him. Harry threw it down to the bottom of the tub and used his hands, used his hands to scratch every last piece of him he could reach. Scratched and scratched until he barely felt it and the water flowed red...

***

Snape glanced at the closed bathroom door for about the fifth time. Harry had been in there over an hour, should he go and check on him? Or leave him to his privacy? Snape mentally catalogued the items on his bathroom shelves. Cleaning potions, shampoos, bath bubbles, nothing that could be considered a danger. Unless it was ingested. Surely the boy wouldn't be that foolish? Remembering the look of utter betrayal on Harry's face when he returned, Snape wasn't so sure anymore.

He marched across to his bathroom door and knocked. "Harry? Are you all right?"

No answer, not that he really expected there to be.

"Harry, I'm coming in. I suggest you get decent for I'm not leaving until I make sure you're all right."

He pushed the door open and gasped in shock.

"Merlin, Harry. What have you done to yourself?"

Harry was curled up at one end of the tub, his knees drawn tight against his chest as he rocked backwards and forwards. He didn't even seem to be aware that Snape was even in the room with him.

Even with what little of Harry he could see, Snape saw enough to know that Harry was in a bad way. Angry scratches covered every bare patch of skin and his whole body was scalded, the skin just too pink. Snape had never needed the spells on his own shower before to stop one from being scalded, but he was surely going to have to add them now. Harry was shivering as cold water continued to rain down on him from the shower. Snape turned off the flow with a flick of his wand.

"Harry? Can you hear me?" The boy didn't even blink, he seemed unaware of his surroundings. "Harry, I'm going to fetch you a towel and then I'm going to lift you out, all right?"

He may have been talking to the wall for all the notice he recieved from Harry.

Snape cast a softening spell on one of his raggedy old towels, probably about high time he invested in some new ones, and wrapped it around Harry's shoulders. Harry didn't even flinch, even though the towel was sure to exacerbate the burns and scratches on his poor abused body.

Snape bent over, scooping his arms underneath Harry's legs and lifted him out, trying to be as gentle as possible. He was not cut out for this. How in hell did he imagine that he would be able to help Harry through this? Especially considering his own feelings for Harry? He was not a nursemaid, he had never looked after anyone in his life, and he was supposed to be able to look after this damaged boy? Just look, one night in Snape's care and the boy had managed to scald himself, scratch himself bloody and had gone into some sort of trance.

Yes, Snape was an excellent choice as caregiver.

He carried Harry to the bed and set him down, willing his eyes to show something other than that blank stare, but it was as if Harry had gone somewhere else. Snape dried him with the towel, deliberately being quick about it and not lingering overlong on those parts of Harry that under other circumstances he would have been drawn to. Once Harry was dried to his staisfaction, Snape returned to the bathroom and retrieved a pain killing potion and a burn salve. Maybe Harry would have been better taken care of in the hospital wing, but Snape knew how Harry would feel about that.

Carefully, he sat Harry up so that his back was leaning against the headboard and squeezed his mouth open so that he could pour the potion down his throat, for Harry was in no state to do it himself. That done, Snape rubbed the salve on the boy's chest and legs, then turned him over so he could do his back. Mission completed, Snape dressed Harry in one of his nightshirts and placed him under the covers. He smoothed a lock of hair out of Harry's eyes and removed the ugly glasses. Harry stared up at him, unseeing, as Snape caressed his cheeks. It was as though his hands didn't want to stop touching Harry.

"Goodnight, Harry," he whispered, placing a soft kiss on Harry's forehead, almost touching the scar there.

Harry gave no indication that he heard.

Snape left the room, glancing back over his shoulder at the still figure on the bed.

Dear Merlin, what were they going to do?


	5. Chapter 5

**Five**

 

The next morning, it was as though nothing untoward had happened. Harry emerged from Snape's bedroom, wrapped up in one of Snape's dressing gowns. It was too big for him, Harry had rolled the sleeves up but hadn't done anything about the length. To Snape, Harry seemed like a child who'd been playing dress-up with his father's clothes. He quashed that thought. He didn't want reminding that he was old enough to be Harry's father.

A small table was set with breakfast; porridge, toast, tea, coffee and pumpkin juice, but Harry bypassed the table altogether and sat down on the sofa, hugging his knees with his hands. He barely looked at Snape.

"Harry? Do you remember what happened? Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," said Harry and then seemed to change his mind. "Did you - did you put me to bed?"

"Yes."

"Did you - did you do something to me?" His voice broke and then Snape realised what was worrying Harry. He thought that Snape might have taken advantage of him when he couldn't even fight back.

"Harry, no, I wouldn't! I put some salve on your burns, but that was all. You were unconscious, I would never have touched you like that."

"But Lupin did, didn't he? He really did that to me?"

"Yes, Harry. He did." Snape buttered a slice of toast and then set it back down on his plate. His appetite had fled. "Are you hungry?" he asked Harry instead. "You'll need your strength to open all your presents."

"Presents?" Harry glanced around the room, looking very bemused.

"Yes, I was innundated with owls at midnight last night. It's your birthday, isn't it?" he asked gently.

Harry shrugged his shoulders and lowered his head. He seemed to be finding the flagstone floor very fascinating. Snape didn't know what to do or what to say to comfort the lost boy on his sofa. He was not cut out for this, he caused pain, he didn't ease it.

Without any more urging from Snape, Harry got up from the sofa and sat down opposite Snape at the little table. "I like porridge," said Harry. "I never got to cook it though, none of them liked it."

"Help yourself," said Snape and watched in horror as Harry sprinkled not one, not two, but three spoonfuls of sugar on it. "Ugh, how can you eat that?"

"I like it sweet," said Harry and gave him a small smile, a smile that Snape was determined to see more often.

"There were some letters too," said Snape, handing him the envelopes. "Probably birthday cards."

"Probably," agreed Harry, round a mouhtful of porridge. He devoured it in a matter of minutes and ripped the first envelope open. "There's a letter from Ron too. He wants me to stay at the Burrow the last week of the holidays."

Harry glanced up at Snape, from beneath lowered lashes. It was almost as if Harry was seeking Snape's permission, Snape's approval.

"And do you want to go and stay there?" For it would be a cold day in hell before Snape would make Harry do something he didn't want to. Not after what he'd been through.

"Would you mind if I did?"

"I have no objections, Harry. If you want to stay at the Burrow, that's fine by me. I have staff meetings all that week anyway, so it's not as if we'd be seeing much of each other anyhow."

"Okay, I might go then." Harry poured himself a pumpkin juice and swirled it around the glass, just staring at it, not drinking it.

"Harry, I know this is probably very difficult for you, but I want you to know that if you do want to talk about what happened, I'm willing to listen. I'm sorry that I upset you by hitting Lupin, but I'm not sorry for hitting him, I can't say that and mean it." He needn't tell Harry why he punched Lupin, Harry didn't need to know what Lupin had said.

"I thought the memories were false, that you were lying to me. I couldn't imagine him doing that to me. I thought we were friends, you know? Yesterday, when I was in the bath, I couldn't stop remembering. I was begging and begging him to stop, but he wouldn't. He wouldn't stop. I couldn't bear it. I couldn't bear knowing that he'd done that to me, so I went away. I wish I could go away permanently, then maybe it wouldn't hurt so much." Harry sobbed out the words as though his heart was breaking. Snape felt his own heart, that cold unfeeling organ he'd posessed for years, crack down the middle.

"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry. I wish there was something I could do to make this better for you."

Harry stared at him for a few moments, as if debating something with himself. "There is something," he said at last.

"Yes?"

"Can I - can I sit on your lap?"

"What?"

"Forget it, just forget it," said Harry, rising from the table and trying to run away.

"I was just surprised, that's all. I wasn't sure you wanted to be touched. You may sit in my lap if you wish." Snape pulled his chair out from beneath the table to give them more room. Harry stood nervously by his side for a minute or two, taking deep breaths, before sliding sideways onto Snape's legs and wrapping his arms round Snape's neck. Harry lay his head on Snape's shoulder and just sat there silently.

Snape brought his hands up and held Harry by the waist, but not moving his hands. He didn't want to worry Harry that this might become something other than a comforting touch. "Is this okay?" he asked Harry.

"Yes. It's nice," mumbled Harry to his shoulder. "I've never been held like this before. I feel - I feel safe."

Safe? Harry felt safe with him? An ex-Death Eater who used to torture and kill?

Harry's dressing gown slipped open and Snape was treated to a view of bare shins, knees and a small patch of smooth thigh. It would be so easy to lower his hand, trace a pattern on that tempting flesh, but Snape did nothing more than tighten his grip on Harry's waist. Harry breathed on his neck, little puffs of air against his skin and much to his horror, Snape felt himself grow hard at the contact, innocent though it had started out.

He shifted slightly, not wanting Harry to discover his condition, but Harry moved too and his thigh pressed against Snape's erection. Harry moved his head to look into Snape's eyes.

"You're hard," he whispered, stating the obvious.

"Sorry," mumbled Snape.

"No, it's okay," said Harry and before Snape could think, Harry's hand moved from his neck and was gripping him firmly between the legs. Snape gasped in surprise.

"Harry? What are you doing?" he pressed his hand to Harry's, stilling them both.

"I - I want to help you," explained Harry. "To thank you for letting me stay here."

Dear Merlin, this was worse than he thought. 

"Harry, there are no conditions to you staying here. You're staying because I want you to. You don't have to do anything. I'm not expecting payment of any sort."

But Harry didn't seem to hear, or pretended not to. He managed to remove his hand from Snape's and once more delved between the Potion master's legs, trying in vain do undo the many buttons on Snape's trousers.

"Harry, stop it!" commanded Snape. "I don't want you to touch me, all right?"

Harry pulled his hand away as though it had been burned. He stood up, tears trickling down his cheeks, magnified by his glasses.

"You don't want me," he sniffled. "Because of what happened. You don't want to touch me becasue I'm dirty."

And in his heart, Snape knew that Harry believed every word of that.

"It isn't that at all, Harry. You're not dirty," sighed Snape, wondering how many times he would have to have this conversation before Harry believed it. If ever. "But you've just found out you were raped. Do you honestly believe you are ready for such an intimacy?"

Harry nodded his head. "Prove it," said Harry. "Prove you don't think I'm dirty. Why don't you fuck me?" his face flamed, two spots of colour on his cheeks.

How was he going to get through to Harry that he was nowhere near ready for sex yet? Talking didn't seem to be working.

"Very well," drawled Snape, standing up and stalking towards Harry. "The sofa is just about the right height, isn't it?"

"The - the sofa?" Ah, was that a flicker of fear? Time to press the advantage.

"Yes, Mr. Potter. Just the right height for a fuck. Bend over." Snape slowly began to undo his trouser buttons.

Harry gaped at him, his eyes wide behind his glasses, blinking rapidly.

"That is what you wanted, wasn't it?"

"I - yes - I - I don't know. No," admitted Harry and sank down on the sofa, cradling his head in his hands. He was trembling and Snape could have kicked himself for being the cause of that fear.

Harry glanced up at him and peered over the rim of his glasses. "You stopped."

"You said 'no', Harry," replied Snape gently. "I will never take you against your will." And neither would anyone else ever again, not if Snape had a say in it.

"But you will take me? One day?" Snape wasn't sure whether or not Harry was horrifed or eager at that prospect.

"One day," agreed Snape. "And when that day comes, Harry. I will do nothing so banal as fuck you. I will never fuck you." He reached out and caressed Harry's hands.

"No? What will you do?"

"I will be staking my claim. You're mine."


	6. Chapter 6

**Six**

_You're mine._

Harry lay wide awake on his small camp bed at the Burrow, thinking about those words. He'd been thinking about them a lot over the past few weeks, ever since Snape had uttered them in fact.

His heart swelled in his chest every time he thought of it. He belonged to Snape. Someone wanted him.

He still flushed with shame when he remembered how he'd tried to touch Snape that day, but Snape had turned down his advances and although his methods were probably not on any approved list of how to deal with rape victims, Harry was glad that Snape had done what he had.

Snape's methods may have been unorthodox, but Harry couldn't deny that they'd worked. Snape had to scare him in order to get Harry to realise that he was not ready, despite what Harry had been trying to do to Snape. But Snape hadn't sent him away and Harry had just spent the best three weeks of his life in the Potion master's company.

During the day, while Snape worked on his potions and lesson plans, Harry studied, finding himself wanting to do better in Potions to impress Snape. He never thought he'd see that day.

In the evenings, they played chess and talked about a lot of things and every lull in the conversation, Harry could hear those words in his head again. You're mine.

For the first time ever, he felt as though he _belonged_ somewhere, just for himself.

Snape wasn't letting him stay because he wanted an unpaid servant, like the Dursleys had treated Harry.

Snape didn't care that he was the Boy Who Lived, that he was waiting on Harry to save them all, unlike Dumbledore.

Snape wanted nothing from him except his company, and maybe one day they could see where this friendship led.

Harry wanted it to be more than friendship, he knew he was falling for Snape, and falling bad. He'd dreamed about Snape's kisses, but even in his dreams, they never went further than that. Was his own mind even trying to protect him from anything that Harry might find too much?

He'd no idea how they would make love anyway, he glanced down at his disinterested groin in consternation. He was broken there, what if Snape didn't want someone who was broken? Ron snored loudly in the next bed and turned over. Harry made sure his friend was still asleep and then tugged down his pyjama bottoms to his ankles.

He'd never even tried to attempt touching himself before, knowing that nothing would happen. But he wanted to feel something. Something other than this fear that was coursing through his bloodstream whenever he remembered what Lupin had done. It was his body. He was allowed to touch himself, wasn't he?

Harry stroked his chest in lazy circles before moving lower and tracing a similar pattern on his stomach. He felt a bit tingly all over, but his prick remained stubbornly flaccid, nestling against his thigh. It didn't even feel as if it belonged to him, but was something other, outside of his body, his control. He gently stroked the length, trying to feel something, trying to coax it to hardness, but he was just getting frustrated. Nothing was happening down there and he yanked his pyjamas back up angrily.

Tears of rage and shame burned on his cheeks. "Goddamn you, Lupin for doing this to me!" he whispered hoarsely to the silence of the room.

***

 

The sun shone down as Harry watched the impromptu Quidditch match between Ron and his brother on the last day of their holiday. They'd tried to cajole him into joining in, but he wasn't in the mood. He just wanted to lie down on the grass in the meadow and watch them. Bees buzzed lazily, hopping from flower to flower and Harry was feeling something he hadn't felt in a long time. Content. 

It was all so normal at the Burrow. Siblings squabbling, Molly shouting, but never really angry. She loved her children and Harry knew that he was counted as one of them now. When he'd accidentally spilt milk at breakfast Molly had castigated him and then looked shocked that she had spoken that way to a guest. Harry had just smiled, feeling like one of the family and not at all put out.

They would be back at shcool tomorrow and Harry was looking forward to it, to seeing Snape again. They hadn't received their timetables yet, so he didn't know when they'd have Potions. He wondered if he could visit Snape even if it wasn't a lesson? Would the man throw him out on his ear?

Harry grinned, imagining Snape's surprise if he did turn up to the dungeons one evening unannounced.

"Why are you smiling like an idiot?" asked Fred (or was it George?) as he threw the quaffle past Ron's head.

"No reason," said Harry, but he still couldn't stop smiling. He felt lighter than he had in days.

"Ohh," joined in Ron. "I think Harry's in love. You had that same face when you had a crush on Cho."

"So who's the lucky girl?" asked George and then winked. "Or is it a lucky fella?"

"None of your business," said Harry, standing up and brushing loose grass from his jeans.

"Oh, so there is something to know?" persisted Ron, lowering his broom and dismounting beside his friend.

"No, there isn't. There is nothing going on."

"Aw, come on, you can tell me. We're best mates, aren't we?"

Just then, Molly called them all in for dinner and Harry was saved the necessity of a reply.

"Oh, I forgot to get the wine glasses, the good ones. We're having company tonight," said Molly and headed for the kitchen. 

"I'll help," said Harry before he even sat down. He always liked to feel that he was paying his way, even if it was only to help lift a few glasses down from the shelf. Molly had already told him that she never used magic around her delicate crockery, too many things could go wrong.

"Thank you, Harry dear," she said, pointing with her wand. "It's those crystal ones at the back. They were a wedding present from Arthur's parents, you know. And not one broken since."

"They're beautiful," said Harry as he lifted them down one by one and placed them gently on the counter next to the sink. "How many do you need?"

"I don't really want Fred and George drinking, but they're eighteen now, can't really stop them, can I? So we'd better bring five, just to be safe."

Harry guessed that two of the glasses would be for the twins, two for Molly and Arthur and one for the expected guest. His tummy fluttered a little, he was hoping that Snape had been invited for dinner, he sometimes was after Order meetings. Molly had seemingly been concerned that Snape never ate except at Hogwarts and was determined to change that.

"Can you bring them in to the dining room, Harry? I just have to check on the casserole a moment."

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley," said Harry, looking daunted at the task before him. His hands trembled a little as he lifted them up, two in one hand and three on the other. It was nerve wracking carring the Weasley family heirlooms and he dreaded what would happen if the twins chose now to play one of their pranks on him.

But it wasn't the twins he needed to be worried about.

The glasses didn't fall, but Harry's magic flared, as uncontrollable as the time he blew up Aunt Marge and they shattered in his hands. Slivers of crystal embedded themselves in the flesh of his hands, but he barely felt it. Was only aware that he'd cut himself when he smelled the coppery tang of blood in the room. His legs had turned to water and it was as if all the air in the room had disappeared.

He would not faint. He would not faint. He would not faint. 

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

Remus Lupin was sitting at the Weasleys' dining table.

He was smiling.

As if they were still friends. As if the werewolf had never held Harry pinned against a desk and thrust into him, despite his protests. "Hello, Harry."

Harry turned and bolted from the room. He barely made it to the bathroom in time to throw up everything he'd ever eaten. It felt as though he'd torn out his stomach lining. His throat was raw and even when his stomach was empty, he still couldn't stop retching, but nothing was coming up except bile and sour spittle.

"Harry, dear, are you all right?" came the concerned voice of Molly Weasley from the other side of the bathroom door.

"I'm not feeling too well. I don't think I'll be able to manage dinner." It helped that he had to vomit again and she heard him.

"All right, is there anything I can get you?"

"No, thank you. I'm just going to go and lie down for a while."

And by that time, Lupin would have left and Harry would never have to see him again. 

***

"Albus! You cannot mean this!" Snape couldn't believe the man had even entertained the idea, never mind acted upon it. It was his final staff meeting before school started again and as usual, the headmaster had left it to the last minute to reveal to Snape which incompent he had hired to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts.

"It's all been arranged, Severus. There's no need to get so upset. I thought it would be best. You know how difficult it is to get good candidates these days. I know you feel that job should be yours, but I really don't think you are the best one for it."

"This has nothing to do with professional jealousy, Albus!" Oh, if only it were that simple. Professional jealousy he could handle, he could handle anyone taking the job. Anyone other than him.

"This is mistake, Albus. I will not allow this to happen."

"Allow? Did you become headmaster in my stead, Severus? I believe that the hiring of staff falls under my duties, does it not? I expect both of you to work together as colleagues and put your personal differences aside," said Albus. It wasn't a request.

Snape glowered at him, but refused to answer. He could only think of Harry now.

How was he to tell Harry that the man who raped him had been appointed the new DADA teacher?


	7. Chapter 7

"Mr. Potter, please see me after class," Professor McGonagall advised Harry as she skirted between the tables checking everyone's work. Harry wasn't surprised that she wanted to see him, he was just surprised that it had taken this long. What was suddenly so special about today that she felt the need to discuss his behaviour?

When the bell rang, Harry lingered behind, receiving a sympathetic smile from Ron and a grimace from Hermione. She didn't approve of what Harry was doing, how could she? It galled him more than he cared to admit, that neither of them had asked him the reason why he was doing it. Not that he could tell them, but it would have been nice to have someone show some concern.

The professor sat down at her desk and waited for Harry to stand beside it before she spoke. "Mr. Potter," she said, steepling her hands and peering at Harry over the rim of her glasses. "What has got into you, Harry? You have been skipping your Defence classes for the past month. Professor Lupin is very worried about you, you used to be his best student."

"Is he?" snapped Harry. "That's big of him."

"Harry Potter!" McGonagall spluttered, standing up and towering above him. "You will not talk about one of your teachers that way. Show some respect."

"No."

"No? You think you can get away with such rudeness? You will go to your classes and you will address Professor Lupin with the respect he deserves."

"I do not respect him and I will not go to any classes he teaches."

"Afer all he's done for you, this is how you repay him? I am very disappointed in you, Harry. Very disappointed indeed."

"You can't make me go," Harry crossed his arms over his chest and glared at her.

"This is a shcool Mr. Potter and your classes are not optional. You will go to Defence Against the Dark Arts or you will be expelled."

Oh, she knew him too well. Knew the only punishment that he really feared was expulsion, cast out from his home. For a moment he wanted to tell her everything in minute detail. Everything that Lupin had done to him, was still doing to him every night in his dreams.

But he imagined the look of disgusted pity on her face, or even worse the disbelief. For Harry was well known to tell tall tales, wasn't he? The Daily Prophet had a new story every week, each more outrageous than the last. The gossip would be round the whole school in hours. Harry remembered second year when half the school thought he was the Heir of Slytherin and fourth year when the other half thought he'd put his name in the Goblet of Fire. No matter the truth of what happened, it would somehow be made out to be Harry's fault.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't tell her this.

"I don't want to be taught by Professor Lupin," he said again, hoping against hope that this time she would listen to him.

"You do not get to choose your teachers, Mr. Potter, no matter how many rules you think are beneath you. The headmaster may have allowed this to go on unchallenged, but I will not. I am your Head of House and I will not have you undermining my authority in front of the other students. How would it be if everyone decided to skip classes whenever they felt like it? You will have detention every night this week with Mr. Filch and tomorrow you will go to Defence even if I have to levitate you there myself! Are we understanding each other, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes, ma'am," sighed Harry, bristling at the unfairness of it all. It felt like white hot heat in his chest and he knew he had to get out of there before he lost control of his magic again. It had been happening more and more lately and he knew it was probably caused by stress.

"You're dismissed," said McGonagall, her voice as cold as Harry had ever heard. "Hurry if you want to be in time for lunch."

Harry hurried away, but not to the Great Hall. He wasn't hungry, he was feeling a bit sick and knew there was no way he could sit at the Gryffindor table and pretend that everything was okay. It was far from okay and he was not in the mood to listen to his classmates praise Lupin to the rafters while he sat there silently seething. It was not doing his blood pressure any good and he wondered sometimes if he was heading for a nervous breakdown.

When he thought of having to face Lupin in a classroom, he didn't feel like a seventeen year old wizard about to come into his full power, he felt like the scared little boy Lupin had betrayed, even as he screamed at the top of his lungs for it to stop. His vision blurred and he realised he was crying.

Leaving the castle altogether, Harry shuffled towards the Forbidden Forest, his shoulders hunched so much he was bent almost double. The tears didn't stop flowing, but it didn't really help. His stomach hurt, an ache that wasn't hunger. The grief and despair was a solid weight in his chest and he knew it wouldn't disappear with a wash of salt from his eyes.

Reaching the shelter of the trees, Harry at last let go and bawled like a child denied a toy. He couldn't stop, his nose was running, he was gasping for air as he just wept and wept. This was all a nightmare and he prayed he could wake up soon.

"Potter, you are aren't at lunch," came a soft voice to his ear and Harry spun round, resisting the urge to fling himself into Snape's arms and seek whatever comfort they could provide. He wanted to be held and comforted like a child, the child his thirteen year old self had never been allowed to be. Lupin had stolen his innocence as much as fighting Voldemort had and Harry wanted it back.

"Neither are you," he said haltingly, trying to stop the tears but they wouldn't be denied. He tasted them on his lips, bitter and salty, the flavour of stolen childhood.

"Harry? What is it? Why are you crying?" Snape made no move to touch him, but Harry wanted those arms around him, he craved them like a man dying of thirst craved water.

"Why else?" he asked bitterly. He didn't want to talk about it. Didn't want to talk about him and how he'd ruined Harry's life. He didn't want his life to be ruined. He wanted to be whole and hale and physically cabable of pursuing a relationship with the man by his side. "I have go go to his classes or be expelled. And I've got detention with Filch for not going in the first place. Neat, huh? Lupin rapes me and I'm the one who gets punished!"

"Maybe you ought to tell the headmaster what happened," suggested Snape. It was a conversation they'd had before and Harry didn't want to go over old arguments again.

"He won't believe me, it's my word against Lupin's."

"If we give him Veritaserum?" Then Snape shook his head. "Oh, I forgot, it isn't effective against werewolves."

"I can't stand this!" shrieked Harry and slammed his fist into the trunk of the tree, howling in pain. God, that hurt, but it was a good hurt because he'd caused it himself. This pain was his, he controlled it. He could stop it whenever he wanted, or not.

He stared at the bark with renewed interest and began to pound his fists on it again and again. Every time his hand struck the wood, he imagined it was Lupin's leering face he was pummelling. He didn't stop until his hands were throbbing and blood dripped down his knuckles.

"Here, let me see your hands," said Snape and Harry glanced around in surprise. He'd forgotten the other man was even there. Snape healed the cuts with a mumbled spell, but the throbbing in Harry's hands didn't diminish, only increased as Snape held his hands in both of his. Snape's dark eyes lowered, sought his and their gazes locked for an eternity. The air around them was thick with tension and Harry's lungs gasped for air when Snape lowered his head still further.

They were close now, so close, their faces almost touching. Harry tilted his head up in response, his heart hammering an erratic rhythm on his ribcage. He wanted to yank open his own chest and give his still beating heart to Snape to consume or destroy, he didn't care which. He just knew he wanted it, wanted something. Snape was still holding his hands as he moved those final few inches and pressed his lips to Harry's.

Harry had dreamed of this moment, their first kiss. But nothing could prepare him for the reality of it, the wet heat as Snape's mouth moved against his, the roughness of chapped lips, the saliva flowing between them as they crushed their mouths together, not a space of air between them. Snape wasn't just kissing him, he was devouring him, setting him aflame and Harry just wanted to stand there and let Snape consume him so that there was nothing of him left but ashes.

Harry was getting lightheaded and leaned back against the tree. He found it difficult to breathe and kiss at the same time, but he didn't want to stop kissing Snape. Who needed air anyway? He could survive on Snape's kisses. There was a moan from somewhere as Snape's tongue pushed into his mouth and Harry forgot everything in that intensity. He could do little else but touch his tongue to Snape's as he tugged the other man towards him.

Harry pulled his hands away, but only so that he could wrap them around Snape's neck and Snape fell against him. Snape groaned into Harry's mouth, and Harry felt the vibration of that sound all the way in his own throat. He wanted more, wanted more of these sensations that fluttered round his tummy like butterflies too scared to land on an exotic flower. He was chasing them but they were as elusive as water trickling through his fingers.

His hands grabbed fistfuls of Snape's hair and he tried to get as close to Snape as possible without them sharing the same skin. Snape shifted suddenly and pressed his whole weight against Harry, moulding him to the tree. Snape groaned and ground his hips against Harry's stomach and Harry could feel the man's desire pressing into him.

He moaned at the thought he was making Snape hard, that his kisses were having such an effect on the man and he kissed back hungrily, his fingers clenching in Snape's hair. Snape left his mouth and rained kisses along his cheek and jaw. Harry arched his head back and was rewarded as Snape licked his throat, lapping like a cat at a bowl of cream. "Oh, God!" moaned Harry. "Please! Oh, please!"

"What, Harry? What do you want?"

"Please, oh please, do something!" wailed Harry, not sure what he should even be asking for.

Snape's hands skated along his sides, down his stomach and then lower still. His large hands caressed Harry's thighs before moving to the middle to cup Harry's cock through his trousers. His utterly useless, non-erect cock. Harry choked on a sob of despair. Oh, the shame of it. Lupin had to destroy this too. He couldn't even be normal in this, couldn't feel pleasure at the touch of the man he loved. He tried to wriggle away, but Snape was holding one thigh and the other hand was still cupping him and caressing him through his trousers.

"What are you doing?" Harry managed to ask.

"I'm touching you. Why, does it feel bad?"

"N- no. Just a little strange. Why are you even bothering? Nothing's going to happen."

"Nothing has to happen, Harry. I'm just enjoying touching you, all of you. It's part of you."

"But it's broken, what's the point?"

But Harry had to admit, even if only to himself, that he quite enjoyed Snape touching him there even if he wasn't hard. He enjoyed Snape touching him.

"I just want to touch you. Unless you'd rather I stop?"

His hand stilled and Harry knew that it was up to him, Snape was giving him control of how things should progress.

"I - I like it," admitted Harry with a shy smile. "But the bell's about to go and do you really want to be caught doing that?"

Snape removed his hand from Harry's crotch so fast that Harry couldn't help the chuckle emerging.

"I'd forgotten where we were," said Snape. "I'm sorry, Harry, I fogot myself. After promising you that I would do nothing like that until you'd left school."

"Please don't be sorry," said Harry. "Not for this. I don't regret it, you did nothing wrong. I wanted it as much as you. You're a wonderful kisser." Harry stood on tip toes and placed a soft kiss on the man's cheek, but he didn't move away, instead he turned to whisper in Snape's ear. "Can I come and see you tonight, after my detention?"

The man shuddered against him and Harry imagined he could feel the desire like an almost tangible thing between them.

"I don't know if that would be such a good idea, Harry."

"We don't have to do anything," urged Harry. "Just talk, if that's what you want."

"Merlin, Hary! You know I want to do to more than talk, but it is out of the question. You are still my student and I will not cross that line. Ever. Please do not make me into him."

"You're nothing like that," said Harry, resting his head on Snape's shoulder. "I know you wouldn't do anything I didn't want. But you will wait for me, won't you? Until I graduate?"

"How could you ever doubt it, Harry?" Snape traced a long finger across Harry's chin and tipped his head up, placing a chaste kiss on his forehead. "I love you. There's no time limit on love." Snape cupped Harry's face in his hands and Harry's gasped at the expression on Snape's face. He felt cherised, adored. "Promise me, Harry that if Lupin tried anything ever again, you will come straight to me?"

Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak for fear that Snape would hear the lie in his voice.

For Harry was determined to take care of the werewolf problem on his own.


	8. Chapter 8

**Eight**

Harry poked his poached egg, watching as the yolk ran over his plate, yellow slime staining the white. He hated runny eggs, it was the first time he'd ever been served something he hated in the Great Hall. Not that he was hungry anyway, but still, it was the principle of the thing. Would nothing go right today?

No, he knew it wouldn't. Today was the day he had to face Remus in a classroom. It was their first lesson after breakfast and Harry felt the bile rise in his throat. He couldn't do this. How could they expect him to do this? He glanced up at the top table and panicked when he saw Lupin's eyes fixed on him. The iris looked slightly yellow and then Harry remembered. The full moon was tonight.

He had to go to Lupin's class when the man was being taken over by the wolf.

He couldn't do this. He wouldn't do this.

Harry climbed over the bench, not even saying goodbye to his friends, and left the hall, heading for the nearest bathroom. He would stay in there until the class was over and if McGonagall wanted him expelled, then he would be expelled, but there was no way he was going to go to the DADA classroom while Lupin was in it.

He stared at himself in the mirror above the sink, he looked pale, with deep shadows under his eyes, no wonder, he hadn't had much sleep. The nightmares were becoming more and more of a problem and a few times he wondered if he should go and get some Dreamless Sleep from Madam Pomfrey, but he didn't want to be bombarded with questions as to why he needed it.

Maybe if he asked Snape? He made all the infirmary's potions, didn't he? And he wouldn't need to explain to Snape why, Snape already knew.

He sighed as he remembered their kiss in the forest and he touched his lips, as if unsure that it had really happened to him. Snape had kissed him, Snape had wanted him but held back because he was a student, something that Lupin never did. Lupin had been too far gone to stop, despite Harry's protests and sometimes Harry wasn't sure that Lupin even remembered what he'd done.

Sometimes Harry wondered if it wasn't better when his memories had been Obliviated.

He splashed cold water on his cheeks, one ear listening for the bell to signal the end of first period. He wasn't sure how long he'd been in the bathroom, when the clanging rang out and he could finally go to his next class.

Just as he pushed the door open, it was pushed back and he staggered backwards, holding his jaw. The edge of the door had smashed into his face. He straightened up to glare at the boy and shouted something about being more careful, but his words caught in his throat.

It wasn't a boy. It was Remus Lupin.

"You weren't in class today, Harry," he said after he'd locked and warded the door.

Fuck!

Harry reached for his wand but Lupin was too quick and disarmed him at once, that strange smile on his face again. His eyes were almost all yellow now, his pupils just a tiny black dot in the centre.

Harry had never believed the saying before, that people could be rooted to the spot with terror, but he believed it now. He tried to move his feet, but they wouldn't obey him. He just couldn't move.

He cast a disarming spell at Lupin, willing wandless magic to him, but it didn't work. Lupin laughed.

"Students can't perform any spells in the bathrooms, Harry, wandless or otherwise. Too many attempted suicides over the years. All the bathrooms are warded against students doing anything so foolish again." Lupin took a step towards him, Harry stepped back, his progess impeded by a stall door. He had to get out of here.

"Now, Harry. You've missed my class again. Tell me, what do you think your punishment should be for that? Since detention doesn't seem to work for you, does it?"

Lupin was next to him now, breathing in his ear and Harry felt his knees buckle. He tried to push past the man, but Lupin's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, grinding his bones together. "Not so fast, Harry. I haven't finished with you yet."

"Let go of me!" hissed Harry, trying to struggle out of Lupin's grasp. "I won't let you touch me again!"

"Really, Harry? You think you have a choice in the matter?" Lupin pushed him to his knees, his fingers digging into Harry's shoulders as he held him there. Lupin's eyes glittered with a feral madness that Harry knew would not be able to listen to reason. The wolf had taken over now, just as it had all those other times. It didn't make things any easier.

"Please, let me go," Harry whispered.

"You are not going anywhere. You've been a very naughty boy and you know what happens to naughty boys, don't you?"

"They - they get punished," sobbed Harry, willing himself to be anywhere but here. Lupin had always called what he did to Harry a punishment. He often wondered what terrible things he'd done in order to merit such punishment.

"Turn around," ordered Lupin. Harry couldn't move as Lupin still held firm to his shoulders, he just sobbed louder. Lupin yanked hard on Harry's waist, turning him so that Harry faced the door of the stall. He stared at the wood, looking at the intricate patterns of the grain on the door.

He struggled when he felt Lupin's hands on the button of his trousers beneath his robe, but Lupin was ready for his defiance. Lupin yanked Harry's hair so hard that he yelped and his eyes watered. The werewolf slammed Harry's head against the door, stunning him but not knocking him out completely. Everything greyed out for a moment and Harry felt sick. The door swung open and Harry found himself on all fours, half in and half out of the cubicle. He ended up suporting himself with his hands. He wanted to pass out, but he was not offered that reprieve.

Lupin had pulled Harry's trousers and underwear down in a matter of moments and he knew there was nothing he could do to stop it. He waited for Lupin to do what he would. Nothing happened. He was crouched on a bathroom floor with his clothes round his ankles, just waiting for it be over. The sooner Lupin started, the sooner it would be over. Why wasn't he doing anything?

"You have to want it, Harry. You have to beg me for it."

What?

"No! I will never ask that! I don't want this! I don't!"

"No? Then perhaps I should pay a little visit to Dumbledore. I have some information that he might be interested in. In fact I think he would find it very interesting indeed."

"Information?" asked Harry and then cursed himself for even talking to him. He had to get out of here. Harry tried to crawl away, but Lupin was holiding tight to his hips, his erection poking Harry in the back. Harry was sure his hips would be bruised tomorrow. Lupin was so strong. He swallowed. This was not happening. It couldn't be happening again. It was just another one of his nightmares, wasn't it?

"Yes, Harry. You see I'm sure Dumbledore would want to know about any teacher who was touching students so inappropriately."

"You'd tell him about what you've done?" What would be the point of that? That wouldn't worry Harry in the least.

"Oh no, dear Harry, not me. I would have to tell him about what I saw in the Forbidden Forest. And what would happen then, do you think? Dumbledore couldn't keep our dear Severus in his employ then, not if he knew that he touched the boy who lived. And without any information on Hogwarts, what use is a spy to Voldemort then?"

No. No. No. Harry refused to believe it. No-one had seen them in the forest, surely? Lupin was bluffing, wasn't he? But what if he wasn't? What if he went to Dumbledore and Veritaserum was used? Snape would have to say what happened. And if Snape left Hogwarts, he was as good as dead. Harry couldn't risk it. He couldn't let Snape die.

"Well, Harry? What's your answer?"

"Do it. Just do it," Harry ground out through gritted teeth.

"Sorry, Harry? What was that? I couldn't hear you."

"Just do it you fucking bastard!" he yelled through his tears.

"If you insist," said Lupin and Harry imagined him to be smirking.

Harry concentrated on the tiles on the floor, not what Lupin was doing to him. It hurt, a burning, searing pain that he just wanted to be over. Lupin didn't prepare him, didn't stretch him with fingers first, there was no lubricant of any sort, Lupin never even bothered with saliva. Harry could feel his skin tearing, could feel a small trickle back there that he knew must have been blood.

His knees and hands were aching from being on the hard floor and he just hoped Lupin would come soon. It would be over then. Lupin's fingers were digging uncomfortably into his hips, pulling Harry towards him with every thrust. And each time agony flared in Harry's body anew. He wouldn't be able to cope with this much longer and willed himself to faint.

Please, please let him finish. Oh, Please. Please!

Harry's breath was hitching in his throat, snot and tears ran down his face, he could hardly breathe, Lupin's weight was solid on his back, erratic breathing in his ears. He wanted to throw up but was afraid that if he did he would choke.

Lupin seemed to be taking forever, as though he wanted to draw it out as long as possible. But finally, Lupin howled and pulled out, the abrupt exit tearing Harry's muscles again. He tried to move away, but Lupin wasn't finished with him yet. Lupin pushed him flat on the floor, Harry's head next to the toilet, Lupin's knee pressing against the small of his back. There was the slap of flesh on flesh and as Lupin moaned in ecstasy, Harry felt the wetness splash against his neck and hair, the smell of semen heavy in the air. He shuddered, feeling debased. Lupin had come on his neck and hair, like he was marking him.

Harry could barely move. He was sore everywhere, how was he going to get to class in the state he was in?

"Remember Harry, not a word to anyone, or Snape will be the one who pays, won't he? I think we should make this a regular arrangement, don't you? I'll see you next week."

Harry lifted his head to glare at the man. He didn't even looked dishevelled, only a small flush to his cheek gave any indication of what had happened. Lupin smirked down at him and tossed a bronze Knut at Harry's head. Harry flinched away from it, almost banging into the toilet.

"For your trouble," Lupin chuckled. "Like the good little whore you are." Lupin threw Harry's wand at him and stalked out.

Harry didn't hear Lupin leave, he lay on the floor, his skin and hair dirty with Lupin's fluids, looking at the knut.

He got up on shaky legs and struggled to one of the sinks, his legs hobbled by the clothes still around his ankles. He should probably have a shower, but he didn't think he wanted to be caught wandering the halls in this condition. He washed his hair and neck as best he could without the benefit of shampoo, just using the soap. At least it got the smell of Lupin off him. He could hardly believe that it had happened again, that he'd allowed it to happen. He'd allowed Lupin to rape him. But was it rape if you'd agreed to it?

Snape would never forgive him.

Harry was a little afraid of what he might find when he touched his backside. His fingers came away wet and red and he couldn't stop them trembling. Oh, God, what if Lupin had damaged him inside in some way? He'd been so rough and Harry closed his eyes as another wave of nausea engulfed him, remembering every time Lupin had raped him.

But this time there was no relief, he couldn't count on them just being memories. For Lupin was going to do it again and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. If he told anyone, even Snape, then Lupin would go to the headmaster and Snape would be sent from Hogwarts and he would die. Harry had no choice. He had to let Lupin do whatever he wanted.

Harry went to one of the stalls and padded up some toilet paper to stuff in his underwear. The bleeding wasn't stopping, but he couldn't go to Madam Pomfrey about this, he just hoped it would stop soon. He pulled up his boxer shorts and gasped at the pain that stabbed through his abdomen. He breathed through it, trying to convince himself it was nothing, that he was fine and he could get back to class. It was Potions soon and he faltered, imagining how disappointed Snape would be if he ever found out what had happened.

Lupin's words boomed in his mind. _Good little whore_.

It was true, he realised. He'd whored himself to save Snape.

He was a whore.

Snape would never want him now.


	9. Chapter 9

**Nine**

House elves did not need cloaks or potions to become invisible. They had their own magics, stronger magics than wizards knew. Magics hidden from the humans long ago, their true form hidden too, for who would suspect the true purpose of short floppy eared creatures that squeaked rather than talked?

Dobby walked silently through the halls of Hogwarts. He saw things. He heard things. He knew things.

He knew that his friend Harry Potter was being hurt. Dobby had taken the oath long ago, that he would never harm a human or other magical creature, except in battle. But wasn't this a battle too? Harry's battle with a werewolf?

Harry was hurting, Dobby saw it more and more each day. The bloodied sheets that Dobby washed, Harry pleading with him not to tell anyone. This Dobby did not understand, why was Harry allowing himself to be hurt over and over again? 

There was only one way it would stop, this Dobby knew. The werewolf had to be punished for harming Harry Potter and Dobby would break his oath to do it. The Three-Fold spell had been forbidden millenia ago, but he and others of his race remembered how to perform it. Now he needed only two pureblood wizards to complete the Circle of Trust.

He would do it for Harry. For he had taken another oath sixteen years ago.

 _Protect the boy_.

***

It was the final week before the seventh years took their NEWTs and today would be their last Potions class before then. Snape toyed with his breakfast, not feeling at all hungry. For the past few months he had watched Harry whenever he could, at meals and in his classes, but it was as though that boy in the forest had ceased to exist.

He still remembered how Harry tasted, the press of soft lips and the eagerness with which Harry had kissed him back. Memories would have to suffice, for he knew he could not allow anything like that to happen again while Harry was still in school. Not that Harry would allow it again. He flinched now whenever Snape was anywhere near him and Snape worried that by kissing him that day he'd made things worse. For they were worse, there was no denying it.

Harry was fading away before their eyes and there was nothing any of them could do about it. The boy was growing paler and thinner with each passing day. Snape couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Harry eat. He'd left the Quidditch team and was not speaking to anyone, becoming more and more withdrawn.

He was still attending his classes, including DADA and Snape wondered how on earth the boy could do it. He had to face the man who raped him every day, knowing that he got away with it. Snape wanted to murder Lupin for what he'd done to Harry. He was a Potions master, it would have been so easy. But he didn't think that him being sent to Azkaban would help Harry much. He didn't know what would.

A couple of times, Snape had suggested gently that he ought to go and see Pomfrey, but Harry had just said that he was fine. He wasn't fine, Snape knew it. The violet shadows under the boy's eyes resembled bruises and except for that his pallor was almost translucent, he was a skeleton with skin.

Harry ate a few mouthfuls of something, egg, Snape thought, before he ran from the hall, his hand over his mouth. Snape had no doubt that he'd gone to throw up. Harry's first lesson was DADA today and then Potions. How could Harry stand it in those classes? To sit there and listen, be taught by someone who raped him? Knowing that Lupin had got away with it and Harry had to take it?

Snape resolved to speak to Harry after Potions, the boy couldn't go on like this. He was making himself ill and Lupin certainly wasn't worth it. But what on earth could he say that would make things better? It seemed that Harry's sanity and well being was hanging by a thread and Snape didn't want to be the one who broke it.

***

Snape taught his first class of the day with his mind elsewhere, specifically on the seventh years' Defence class. How was Harry coping? Did Lupin make snide remarks about what he'd done to Harry, baiting him? Did he try and get Harry alone after lessons? His mind was filled with visions of Lupin attacking Harry and he dismissed the first year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws without even setting homework.

When they left, he waited anxiously by his desk, willing the advanced Potion class to hurry up. Something wasn't right, he could feel it. He had to make sure Harry was okay. They arrived in dribs and drabs, babbling excitedly about something, but he caught one word. Lupin.

He turned to face Weasley and Granger, who entered the room last. The Granger girl was crying and Weasley's hands were around her shoulder, hugging him to her. No Harry.

"Where is Harry...Potter?" he managed to amend. Granger sobbed louder and pressed her face against the boy's neck.

"Haven't you heard, sir?" aksed Weasley, glancing at Malfoy.

Malfoy stood up. "There's been an accident, professor," he said.

Snape swayed a little and grabbed the edge of the nearest desk for support. "Accident?" he repeated. Harry. Harry.

"Tell me what happened," he asked of no-one in particular. The rest of the class gazed eagerly around, ready to hear it all again. No, he would not make Harry's plight something to be gossiped about. "This will be a silent study period, take out your books." He turned to Harry's friends and then to Malfoy. "You three, come with me," and he led them into his office, locking and warding the door behind them.

"Now, what is going on?" he directed the question at Weasley, the girl didn't look as if she'd be coherent anytime soon.

"Professor Lupin collapsed in class, sir. That's when it started."

"Collapsed? What do you mean?"

"Collapsed, sir. He's dead," said Malfoy, sounding not too displeased at the prospect. Well, those two had never been on friendly terms. And Snape looked at Malfoy with new eyes. Had Lupin been doing this to more than one student?

"Dead?" He could hardly conceive of it. That Harry was finally free of the werewolf's clutches. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, sir," said Weasley. "Madam Pomfrey came and took him away. St. Mungo's will be doing an autopsy."

Well, of course they would. Lupin's death was suspicious if nothing else. People in their thirties didn't just drop down dead, even if they were werewolves.

"And did he suffer?" Snape couldn't help asking.

"Oh, yes," said Malfoy with malicious glee, but Snape didn't have long to wonder at him.

"Where's Harry?"

"He freaked out, sir. I've never seen him like that," replied Weasley.

"Freaked out, how?"

"He was screaming and screaming, he just couldn't stop and then he started pulling his hair out. Harry kept banging his head on the desk. We tried to stop him, me and Malfoy, but Harry was so wild that we couldn't keep hold of him. Couldn't even get to our wands to bind him so that he wouldn't hurt himself. He knocked himself out and we couldn't wake him up. I thought at first the screams were just random, you know? But they weren't. He was saying the same thing over and over again. 'Stop, professor, please stop.'" Weasley looked at him, probably wondering if he was the professor Harry was screaming about.

"Is Harry in the infirmary now?"

"Yes, professor. But Madam Pomfrey has sent for a healer from St. Mungo's, Harry's in some sort of coma. They can't wake him up."

Snape's vision whited out and he staggered, then was being held up by the strong arms of Weasley and those of Malfoy, his touch a tad more delicate. "Are you all right, sir?"

"I'm fne, Weasley. I just have to go and see Harry." He didn't care what it sounded like, that he was worried about Harry. He just had to get to the infirmary. He left the dungeons and made his way to the hospital wing, scowling at anyone who crossed his path. He was not in the mood for explanations.

All the beds were empty except for one at the far end of the room. He saw the shadows of two figures walking round the bed, the privacy curtain pulled round making him unable to see little else. Snape marched straight up to the bed and yanked the curtain back. He could see Harry's aura as the two healers cast their wands over him, shades of blue and gold, but edged with a dark tint.

"Severus!" scolded Poppy. "You can't be in here! Harry's being examined!"

But the healer next to her shook his head. "I'm sorry, Madam Pomfrey, but there is nothing more I can do. He is trapped within his own mind. He will not emerge without help, but it is help that I cannot give. I am not a skilled enough Occlumens."

"No, but Severus is," said Poppy, turning back to him.

"What can I do, Poppy? Please, let me help." Snape was desperate, trying to ignore the figure on the bed. Harry was too still, too pale and if it wasn't for the slight rise and fall of his chest, he would be sure that he was already dead. There was a large purple bruise forming on his forehead, probably where he'd hit his head on the desk.

"What can I do?" he asked again.

"Healer Wendell," she indiacted the man to her left. "Was attempting to bring Harry back to consciousness when he discovered something when he was in Harry's mind. A blocked door, with Harry behind it. He tried to get through to coax Harry out, but he couldn't get past the door. He could hear Harry screaming behind it. Somehow Harry is stuck behind that door, whatever it is."

"It's a memory," said Snape sadly. "Harry was obliviated and the memories were behind that black door."

"Do you know what the memories are?" asked Poppy.

"Bad. Bad memories." He could not tell her any more. It would be Harry's secret to tell, if he wished to.

"And Harry's mind is stuck there? With all those bad memories? We can't get him out, Severus. Please, you must try!"

As if he needed persuading.

"I will do my best, Poppy," he said and then cast Legimens on Harry.

Almost before he was aware of it, he was thrust forward into Harry's mind and the corridor of open doors. All doors open save for the black one at the far end. He'd breached it before, surely it wouldn't be that difficult this time? He thought he saw glimpses of Harry as he was now, being raped by Lupin in some of the open doorways, and thought they were nightmares.

When he turned the handle of the black door, nothing happened. The door remained locked against him.

He had to get Harry out of there, but how? A facsimile of his wand was with him, but it was just a spectre, not a real one. He couldn't do magic with it. Snape had never been good at wandless magic, but he remembered that Harry was. Could Harry hear him through the door?

He called out but received no answer.

Harry had told him that when he performed wandless magic, it was usually when his emotions were really strong. Anger, fear, hate. Well Snape was certainly afraid for Harry, he was angry and hated Lupin for what he'd put Harry through. He tried to concentrate on them, almost willing the magic through himself, but the door remained shut.

But he wouldn't give up. The young man he loved was on the other side of that door and Snape was not leaving him there, among some of the worst memories of his young life. He tried to think of something, anything else, when he noticed the door was slightly ajar. What had he done differently? Love, he was thinking about love, how much he loved Harry. The door swung open a few more inches, slower than he would have liked, but eventually the barrier was completely gone.

Just as Snape was about to enter the memory, a Harry shaped projectile launched himself in Snape's arms and he staggered back, holding the weight of the boy to his chest. "Professor! You came! You came!" sobbed Harry to his neck. "You came to save me, I knew you would!"

Snape hugged Harry fiercely, the corridor dissolving around them as he was shoved out of Harry's mind once more.

He was back in the infirmary and Harry was still lying motionless on the bed, but his cheeks looked a little bit pinker, didn't they? Poppy didn't say anything until both she and the healer had examined Harry with their wands, Harry's aura flaring above his still form, shimmers of blue and gold. No black, there was no black in Harry's aura, not anymore.

"Did it work?" asked Snape.

"Oh, Severus, you did it! He's going to be fine. He just needs lots of rest so his body can heal. I've placed him in a healing sleep for now, but he should wake in the morning."

"And he will be all right?" Snape had to make sure.

"Well, physically he will, but mentally, I don't know. We've healed all his wounds that we could, but some scars aren't on the body, are they?"

"What are you talking about? What wounds?" Apart from that bruise on the temple, Harry didn't look injured.

"From what Remus Lupin did to him," said Healer Wendell. "Didn't you know?"

"Well, yes, but that happened years ago!"

"Severus, Healer Wendell was in Harry's mind, he saw it. Lupin had been abusing Harry for the past few months, physically and sexually. He was in a terrible state, covered in bruises and cuts. He had anal tears that hadn't healed, were just ripped open again. But he will be fine now," she assured him. "That poor boy, what he has been through."

Snape just stared at her. The past few months? Lupin had been raping him again? Why hadn't Harry told him? 

"Why didn't he tell anyone?" he asked.

"Because Lupin threatened to tell Dumbledore that he saw you and Harry kissing in the forest, intimating that if Dumbledore knew about it, you would be sacked and would have to leave the safety of Hogwarts. Harry didn't know that relationships between teachers and students are not forbidden, as long as the student was of age and it was consensual. He needn't have suffered this at all."

Snape felt ill. Harry had gone through this, endured this because of him? Because Lupin had threatened him. It was Snape's fault.

"Professor, in Harry's mind, as I saw it, Harry is afraid that you will reject him because of what happened. In his head, he thinks it was his fault. I see it a lot in rape victims," said Wendell. "You do know that he's in love with you? A rejection from you at this stage could put his recovery back for months."

"He won't be rejected," said Snape stiffly. How could they even think he would reject Harry? Over this? Over anything? "I'm not leaving him." He glared at both of them and sat down on the chair beside Harry's bed, daring them to disagree.

They didn't.


	10. Chapter 10

**Ten**

"A nightmare," said Snape.

Harry shivered and gulped in air as though it was going to disappear on him. He stared at Snape, then at his hands clasped in the bedclothes. His fingers were very thin, Snape noticed.

"Harry? What is it?"

"Please, please, professor, can you just hold me?" asked Harry, wrapping his arms around himself and rocking on the bed. "I don't want to be alone."

"If that's what you want, Harry," said Snape, wondering if it was the best thing for Harry at this juncture. But Harry had asked for it, it was something of his choosing and Snape would never go against that. "Move over, then," he smiled as Harry lay back down on the bed and rested on his side.

Snape removed his robe, but kept on his shirt and trousers, climbing in next to Harry. He opened his arms once he was comfortable. Harry scooted over towards him and snuggled up, his arms around Snape's back and his head tucked beneath Snape's chin. Snape gently stroked the boy's back, feeling the tension gradually ease out of him. Snape was careful to keep his touches light and didn't venture any further than Harry's waist as he tried to comfort the sobbing boy.

Harry's tears were seeping through Snape's shirt, but what did he care for shirts? If the crying was helping Harry come to terms with what happened, he would be quite content to drown in the boy's tears. "I'm sorry," Harry mumbled to his chest, barely audible.

"Don't apologise, Harry. Don't ever apologise for what he did to you. It was not your fault, none of it. I love you and I want to help you get through this."

"You - you still love me?" Harry's face emerged from Snape's chest, tearstained and white, emerald eyes seeming so much brighter without the glasses. "Even after what I let him do?"

Was this what was bothering Harry? That he thought he'd agreed to being abused like that? No wonder he was so confused. Lupin had been one sick bastard, making Harry ask to be raped by threatening Snape.

"Harry, you didn't let him do anything to you. He raped and abused you, it was not your fault. You are not to blame for this, he is."

"But - but I said he could do it. It wasn't rape if I agreed, was it?"

"Is that what you think, Harry? He raped you, just using coercion to do it. He threatened you to get what he wanted, to get what he wanted, Harry, not you. Or are you telling me you wanted him to do those things to you?"

"No, I didn't want to, but I had to. I couldn't let anything happen to you, I couldn't! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! You must be so disappointed in me," he hiccuped, trying to control the sobs.

"No, Harry. I think you're the bravest person I've ever known. I'm just so sorry that you went through this. Now get some sleep, you need your rest."

"Will you stay with me?" he asked, the doubt in his voice breaking Snape's heart.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said and they both knew that Snape wasn't just talking about tonight. He placed a soft kiss on Harry's hair and Harry snuggled against him, settling slowly into sleep.

Snape didn't fall alseep at all that night, he wanted to cherish every moment of Harry in his arms, every breath he heard, the beating of Harry's heart against his. Eternity wouldn't be long enough with Harry. Harry would be fine, Snape would make sure of that. He swore it to himself.

Just as the first grey lights of dawn crept through the high windows, casting shadows on the floor, the curtain was pulled back. Dumbledore was behind it, looking respelendent in purple robes with silver stars. He frowned at Harry and Snape, but Snape couldn't tell whether it was from annoyance or not.

"Severus, I would like to speak with you for a moment if I would. The results of Remus Lupin's autopsy have been issued. I thought you might be want to be informed."

Oh, yes, Snape definitely wanted to be informed about that. He gently removed himself from Harry, pressing a kiss on his forehead when Harry whimpered at the lack of contact.

He followed the headmaster to one of the empty beds and stood beside it. "Well?" he prompted.

"It seems that the Three-Fold spell was involved."

Snape laughed. "But that's impossible! There is no such spell, it's a legend, a myth, like the beings who are required to cast it."

"Nevertheless, that spell was used on Remus Lupin. Tell me, have you come across it in your studies of Dark Magic? It was considered Dark, was it not?"

"Quite the opposite actually," bristled Snape, annoyed at his past mistakes being brought into the conversation. "It was considered the lightest spell ever to exist, it was sometimes called the Three-Fold Blessing. But to cast it, a Circle of Trust was needed."

"And that would be?"

"Three people who were "pure in thought, word and deed". Two of them needed to be pure blooded wizards, and their bodies needed to be pure too, virgins in other words. But the third is is why the spell is not real. The third needs to be an Immortali, and they are beings who do not exist."

"You sound so sure of that, Severus," the headmaster said gravely.

"Because I am sure. There are no such things as Immortali, they are myths!"

"Indulge an old man, will you Severus, do you know anything about these, ah myhtical creatures?"

"Well, the ancients believed that they were gods and worshipped them, but the Immortali didn't want to be worshipped, so they disappeared from the world altogether. Of course, there were a few crazy ones who wanted to be worshipped and lost their minds from all the adoration they received. From what I understand, they were considered to be the predecessors to people like Voldemort, but they had more power than humans or wizards could conceive of."

"And the others? The ones who didn't want to become as gods?"

 

"Well, it's said that they hid themselves "in plain sight" so that they could better protect humanity from their crazier brethren. They allegedly became protectors of the world, but hidden from it."

"And would it surprise you to learn that Hogwarts is protected by more than just magical wards?"

"What? You don't mean..."

"I do indeed, Severus. The Immortali have been protecting Hogwarts since the first stone was laid."

"That's impossible! Someone would have known, someone would have seen!"

"Really? And what do the books say the Immortali look like, Severus?"

"A brightness too terrible to behold," Snape quoted from memory.

"No-one has ever seen their true form, not for a long time. But they are in the world Severus, they are here at Hogwarts and you see them every day. I think it's time for you to meet Harry's circle of trust." With that, Dumbledore hurried away and opened the infirmary door. Snape gasped.

Weasley he had expected, the Weasleys were one of the oldest pureblood families in the wizarding world and Ron as Harry's friend would certainly be in a position to help with a Trust spell. But Draco Malfoy? He thought the two of them hated each other? For all three had to be in perfect accord to cast the spell, had Malfoy and Weasley put their differences aside in order to help Harry?

But it was the third that caused him to chuckle at the absurdity of it all. Harry's house-elf friend, Lucius Malfoy's ex house-elf. What was the creature's name again? Dobby, that was it. "Now I suppose you're going to tell me that Dobby is an Immortali? A house-elf?"

"What better way to hide in plain sight, Severus? Who takes notice of house-elves, after all? Master Dobain, I apologise for my colleague, I'm sure he intended no disrespect."

"There is no need for apologies, headmaster. This man is Harry's Chosen, and for that many things can be forgiven." It was the little elf who had spoken, but his voice was richer and deeper in tone, hinting at great age. "I would show you my true form, but it is too incomprehensible for humans and wizards to understand. You would all be driven mad to see it. But believe me when I say that I am of that race you call Immortali."

Snape didn't doubt it, not for a moment. They existed. They were real and he was in the presence of one. He felt a sense of peace wash over him, peace that he had never felt since that day Voldemort marked his arm. He sank to his knees without thinking.

"No! I do not want worship or honour, get up you foolish man!"

Snape stood, feeling a blush heat his cheeks.

"Can you tell me about the spell, Master Dobain? I don't understand," admitted Snape. "I thought the Three-Fold spell was a blessing? And you two, how did you get involved?"

"Dobby, sorry, Master Dobain, told us what Lupin had done to Harry," said Malfoy.

"And you helped Harry Potter, Draco? Why? I thought you hated him?" Was Draco finally growing up at last?

"Because no-one should have to go through that. It wasn't right." Indeed, Draco was growing up and making his own decisions, not those his father would have wished. "Father showed me his pensieve once. A Death Eater meeting. I saw what the men did, stuff like Lupin did to Harry. I think he was hoping it would make me want to join them. But it just made me feel sick. It wasn't right."

"And killing Lupin was?"

"We didn't kill him," said Weasley and he honestly sounded as if he believed that.

"But the Three-Fold spell, the three of you performed that, did you not?"

"The Three-Fold spell counteracts evil words, evil thoughts and evil deeds, hence the need for purity. But it did not work as we had hoped. Lupin had been too long struggling with the wolf within him, when the man in him, the true man, not the one controlled by the wolf, saw what he had done, the guilt was too much for him to bear. He willed himself to die. His own wickedness and guilt killed him, not any spell. Perhaps if we'd peformed the spell sooner, we could have saved him. But his mind had become too much like that of a wolf, not a man. There was no way to reach him." Dobain hung his head.

"You would excuse what he has done?" demanded Snape.

"No, nothing would excuse what he has done to Harry Potter. I will not make excuses for that, I cannot. I will not forgive anyone who has hurt Harry Potter in this matter," Dobain glared at the headmaster as he said it. Dumbledore paled and glanced nervously at Snape. If Snape thought he'd known anger before, it was nothing to what he felt now. He wanted to tear the headmaster limb from limb and feed him to the thestrals.

"Oh my God! You knew! You knew what that bastard was doing to Harry and you did nothing about it!" Snape was shaking with rage. He wanted to wrap his arms around that wrinkled throat and squeeze and squeeze. He controlled himself with an effort, clenching his fists by his sides instead. Dobain clicked his fingers and the three of them were suddenly in the centre of a privacy bubble.

"The students do not need to hear this," said Dobain, looking pointedly at the headmaster.

"Dear gods, Albus, why? Hasn't Harry been through enough?"

"We had to make him stronger so that he could face Voldemort. We had to make him angry enough that he wouldn't be scared to face the Dark Lord."

"In case you hadn't noticed, Voldemort didn't rape him, Lupin did!"

"Yes, well, we were going to tell Harry that Voldemort had Lupin under Imperius to hurt Harry like that. Harry would be taking his revenge on Voldemort both for what Lupin had done to him and for what he thought Lupin had endured from Voldemort."

"And was Lupin under Imperius?"

"No," the word was barely a breath in the room. "He did it as part of his duties to the Order."

"They knew? The whole Order knew what you'd allowed to happen to the boy? Are you all crazy?"

"Everyone knew, except for you and the Weasleys."

Well of course, they wouldn't have told Snape, not the tame Death Eater in their midst. And the Weasleys, Molly Weasley did not bear crossing if you threatened one of her chicks, even the adopted one. "I cannot believe this, Albus. I cannot believe you would put Harry through this for your stupid war!"

"Harry's our only hope, Severus."

"Get out, get out. I don't want to hear another word from you."

"Severus, please, let us make amends-" the headmaster reached out a hand, but Snape shook it off and spat in his face.

"Don't you dare touch me! You're as much a rapist as Lupin ever was! You violated Harry's trust in you time and time again! You violated his home! He thought he was safe at Hogwarts. I can never forgive you for this, Albus, never!" Snape turned on his heel and stalked out of the privacy bubble.

He glanced back once to see Dobain lead the headmaster out, looking every inch an old man, but Snape could not muster up one ounce of pity for the man. He dismissed Weasley and Malfoy with a wave of his hand, he must have looked how angry he felt, for neither of them argued with him.

All he could think of was Harry and what he'd been put through at the hands of people he trusted, all for the sake of some stupid prophecy and an even stupider game of chess that Voldemort and Dumbledore played with their lives. That's what it was to them, Snape realised. A giant game of strategy and they were all pawns, all expendable.

But they wouldn't get away with it. No-one would ever hurt Harry again.

Snape took out the small knife he used for chopping potion ingredients and drew a red line across his left palm. He dipped his forefinger the blood.

"I swear it," he said to himself, before smearing a drop of blood on Harry's head. "I swear it," he repeated as he smeared the blood on his own forehead, feeling the magic flow through them both.

They were blood-bonded now. 

No power on earth could break it.


	11. Chapter 11

**Eleven**

He stared down at Harry's sleeping form, glad that he hadn't heard what had been said. Snape didn't know how Harry would cope knowing that it was Dumbledore who'd really done this to him. Harry had enough betrayals to last him a lifetime. Snape didn't understand it, he couldn't conceive of deliberately causing harm like that.

Oh, he'd done his fair share of tortures while he was a Death Eater, but he took no pleasure in it and it was done out of necessity to keep his cover. He had never used rape as a weapon though, but he knew other Death Eaters who had. It didn't make it any easier to bear for Harry. Snape rubbed the blood from both their foreheads, hoping that the castle wards hadn't been alerted to illegal magic.

The spell wasn't Dark, not exactly, but it would bind Snape and Harry together as bond-mates, the nearest thing to a wizarding wedding without the ceremony or paperwork. Looking down at Harry, he realised he would be quite prepared to endure those too.

He was dimly aware of a rustling behind him as he stared at Harry and he turned round, only to find himself in the odd position of being embraced by Poppy Pomfrey. She was also sobbing on his shoulder. "Oh, Severus, I'm so sorry! We heard what the headmaster did! How could he? How could he?"

"How did you hear?"

"That privacy spell was only set to keep out students' ears, something which doesn't apply to Wendell or myself."

"I see."

"Healer Wendell would like to talk to you before you go, about Harry. He's also a counsellor as well as a Healer," she told him. Snape took one last glance at the sleeping boy in the bed. 

"Very well," he turned to face the man hovering by Poppy's shoulder. "What would you like to discuss?"

"Well, I'll just go and get things ready, shall I?" said Poppy, smoothing down her apron, although there wasn't a crease in sight and bustled off to her office.

"Professor Snape, I hope you don't think I'm being presumptous in talking to you about Harry's recovery, I know you two are sort of in a relationship."

Sort of? Snape supposed they were at that. He wondered if anything between the two of them would ever be remotely normal.

"I've dealt with a lot of rape victims over the years, and I tell you it doesn't get any easier. But I want you to know if you or Harry ever want to talk, please know that I would do anything to help. I took the liberty of bringing you some books you might find helpful. Harry can read them too when he feels up to it. He may not want to be reminded of things so soon or talk about what happened for some time." The healer set the books down on a table at the bottom of one of the beds.

"I understand, thank you." Snape was surprised at the man's genuine concern. He used to think all the healers at St. Mungo's were a bunch of charlatans, like Sybil Trelawney, but Wendell did seem to know his stuff. "Is there anything I can do to help Harry through this?"

"The main thing is just knowing that you are there for him, that you care enough to stay with him. He needs something constant in his life right now, someone he trusts implicitly, and to Harry you are that person. I saw it in his mind. I wouldn't recommend that you pursue a sexual relationship with Harry for some time yet, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't touch him. On the contrary, any non-sexual touches can only help, as many hugs and cuddles as you can spare. Harry has to relearn that he is more than a sexual object, but the touches will also reinforce that you do not find Harry repulsive because of what happened. I think Harry will know his own limits and let you know if you ever go too far with what he is comfortable with."

Snape wasn't so sure of that, but he nodded at the healer anyway. "Do you think he'll ever get over this?"

"Harry has a strong mind, so I think so, but we never really can tell with these things. Everyone's experience is so different."

"Is it normal for men who were raped to suffer from imptoency?"

"You haven't tried to have sex with him?" asked Wendell, appalled.

"No, of course not. Harry told me. He says he's never had an erection or an orgasm at all."

"Never? That is unusual, but you say that this started happening a few years ago, when Harry was young? Just hitting puberty if I don't miss my guess. The rape probably stopped Harry from experiencing normal sexual responses as he was growing up. There is nothing physically wrong with his body or its responses, I'm guessing that the impotence is a fear of intimacy due to what he's been through. It will take time, but I think as he recovers, his sexual responses will come to the fore again."

"I see, thank you healer," said Snape glancing down at the book titles. Reclaiming Your Body: Surviving Abuse, A Wizard's Guide to Sexuality, Re-learning Intimacy and other books in the same vein. "I'll make sure Harry gets these."

"Severus," called Poppy as she emerged from her office. "Can you please wake Harry and help him dress?" She held up a pair of dark blue jeans and an orange tee-shirt. It was just a shade lighter than Ronald Weasley's hair. Harry would probably look like a pumpkin in it. "We don't have much time. Master Dobain can only take the wards down for a few seconds."

"Is Harry well enough to leave?" he asked.

"He's well enough to get where you're going," she said and shoved the clothes at him. "Hurry!"

He didn't bother asking anymore questions, he wasn't sure he would like the answers. Snape shook Harry awake and then began dressing him when Harry didn't show much sign of waking up.

"Are we going somewhere?" Harry asked round a yawn just as Snape was yanking the jeans up his legs. He stopped mid thigh, guessing Harry could pull them all the way up after that.

"It seems that way," said Snape, looking away while Harry continued dressing. "Are you okay to walk?"

"I think so," said Harry and climbed out of bed. He steadied himself on the bedframe for a few moments, but he did manage to walk unaided to where Poppy was. "What's going on?" asked Harry before Snape could even think it.

"The wards will be down for a few seconds at eleven o'clock. Both of you will Apparate to Diagon Alley and from there you will take the Floo from the Leaky Cauldron, the private one in the upstairs parlour, not the public one in the lounge. Master Dobain has it all arranged with Tom."

"Who's Master Dobain?" 

"I'll explain later, Harry," said Snape. "Poppy, we can't just leave like this. The war-"

"Will go on without you two. Don't worry, Severus, the Immortali have it all in hand. Here are the Floo co-ordinates to your destination. The place is well warded and is the middle of nowhere. Close the Floo as soon as you arrive and you will not be bothered."

"Poppy, I'm grateful for the offer, truly, but we can't do this. We're needed here."

"You can and you will. Both of you have served your time in this war against the Dark and both of you have suffered enough for it. I will not allow you to do any more. Consider yourselves honourably discharged. The war is over for you," she pressed a piece of yellowed parchment into his hands. "Go, both of you, go and heal."

"Harry?" Snape asked him. He would not force a choice on Harry, any choice.

"Ron and Hermione-" began Harry.

"Are here to say goodbye," came Weasley's voice from the doorway. Him and Hermione Granger were both smiling sadly as they walked towards Harry and both crushed him in a hug. Snape couldn't help the small frisson of jealousy as he watched the three of them together, but he stamped on it quickly. "You can owl us once you get settled, Harry, and maybe one day you can even invite us, can't you?" asked Hermione, tears glistening in her eyes. "We're going to miss you so much, Harry, but you should go. You have to get away from here, from where it happened."

"I will see you again, won't I?" Harry asked them.

"Of course you will!" said Ron, slapping his friend on the back. "You know where the Burrow is, don't you? And if Madam Pomfrey thinks it safe, we can visit you two in the summer. You should go, Harry, you deserve to be happy."

"And you don't mind?" Harry glanced at Snape and Ron laughed.

"Well, have to say it was a bit of a surprise, you and Professor Snape, but I know how much he loves you, so no, I don't mind at all."

Harry hugged both of them again before leaving his friends and moving to stand by Snape, placing his hands in his. The touch was unexpected but very welcome. "Well, professor, looks like we're leaving after all."

"Here," said Poppy, shoving two black cloaks in their arms. "Keep the hoods up so that you're not recognised." Poppy cast a spell at Harry and Snape saw the lightning bolt on his forehead disapper. "It's only a temporary glamour, but should hold until the two of you get to the Leaky Cauldron. The clock should stike eleven any minute now, get ready to Apparate you two."

Snape wrapped his arms around Harry, as Harry had never taken his Apparation test yet and Snape would have to perform an assisted Apparation. Both of them had to keep touching, otherwise the non-Apparator would have a good chance of ending up splinched. As soon as the first chime of eleven struck, Snape Apparated them both to Diagon Alley.

Harry stumbled a little as they materialised in the market square, but Snape was holding him tight enough that he didn't fall. They pulled up the hoods of their cloaks and made their way through the throng of morning shoppers to the inn. Adjusting his eyes to the smoky atmosphere within, Snape looked around for Tom, the innkeeper, who bustled over as soon as he saw the two of them.

"Ah, Mr. Smith," he said, performing a low bow. "I have your room ready upstairs. Follow me."

Harry and Snape made their way upstairs to the private parlour, which contained the only Floo in London not watched by the Ministry of Magic. The Order of the Phoenix used it a lot but Snape tried not to think of that. He wasn't a member of the Order anymore, he was a deserter, but the thought didn't bother him much. Better that Harry was away from all that. He would do anything in his power to keep Harry safe.

Oh, Snape had had a few liasions in his time, but he would never even go so far to say that any of them had been lovers. They were just two people who used each other as a way to ease tension, or maybe offer some comfort to each other in the dark. He'd never been in love before until Harry. He'd never felt this fierce protectiveness for anyone before. It wasn't just physical desire, although that was there too, but an underlying sense of belonging. They belonged to each other and he just knew that his world would never be the same again. Harry had brought light into his world again, after Snape had spent so long hidden in the dark at the behest of two masters who had used both he and Harry for their own ends.

"Professor?" asked Harry as they stood in front of the large brick fireplace, taking Snape out of his reverie.

Snape took the parchment from his pocket and memorised the co-ordinates. "You go first, Harry," he said, handing the boy the parchment. "I'll be along in a few moments." Harry hugged him before taking a pinch of Floo powder and casting it into the fire, reading out the numbers as he did so. Harry disappeared amid swirling emerald flames. Snape took a deep breath before reaching for the Floo powder.

Snape had never told anyone, but he had a deep phobia about travelling by Floo. It seemed so uncontrolled compared to flying your own broomstick, or even Apparating. He also suffered terribly from Floo sickness, a travel related illness that made seasickness look like a mild cold. He wasn't looking forward to this at all, but Harry was waiting for him on the other side of that Floo.

Steeling himself, Snape stepped into the fireplace and cast the powder, getting ready to start his life with Harry.

Whatever that might turn out to be.


	12. Chapter 12

**Twelve**

Harry sneezed as he was flung from the Floo network into a room, landing flat on his face as was usual when he travelled by Floo. He pushed himself to his knees and that's when he saw them, black robed legs and black shoes, six pairs of them. His first thought was Death Eaters, but his scar wasn't hurting. He didn't think Madam Pomfrey's glamour would have stopped any pain, it just made the scar invisible for a while.

He struggled to his feet, trying to get back to the Floo, but there were too many for him to fight. Aurors, not Death Eaters after all. The thought did little to comfort him. One of the Aurors frisked him and removed his wand, Harry shuddered at the unknown hands touching him.

"Hello, Harry. We were wondering when you would show up," Harry writhed against the men holding him and looked into the smiling face of Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic. His only coherent thought at the moment was that somehow the Floo had been intercepted and they had been betrayed. Again.

"Let go of me!" Harry hissed to the Aurors, he didn't recognise any of them, but all of them seemed well built and muscular. It was futile to try and get free from them, but he tried anyway. He would not give in without a fight. Not anymore. "What do you want?" he demanded of Fudge.

"Do you really think the Ministry would allow you to leave, Harry? After all the effort put in with your training? You have a war to win, young man and you are not going anywhere."

"You're taking me prisoner?" He shouldn't laugh really, but it was either that or scream and he'd done enough screaming. He just hoped Snape had enough sense to stay away. No point in them both being captured.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that, Harry. Just think of it as protective custody. From now on you and Severus Snape are Ministry property."

"I'm not anyone's property!"

"Ah, here's our other guest," said Fudge, ignoring Harry's outburst. 

"Run! It's a trap, professor!" he shrieked at the top of his lungs, but Snape ignored him and walked out of the fireplace with his usual calm elegance. Curse the man's honour, he wasn't going to leave Harry here alone, but now both of them were prisoners of the Ministry. There was a small smudge of soot on Snape's cheek and Harry had a strong desire to smooth it off with his finger.

Snape went for his wand, but a few more Aurors Apparated into the room and disarmed him in a matter of moments. Harry tried casting a few hexes at the men holding him, but Fudge just laughed. "Sorry, Harry, only authorised wizards and witches can peform magic in the Ministry, and since neither of you are authorised, you can't do any magic."

"What are we doing here, Fudge?" asked Snape. "You have no right to detain us."

"No right? No right? I am the Minister of Magic. I can do whatever I like. You think a seventeen year old boy and a Death Eater are going to worry me? Harry was born for this purpose and he is going to do it. He and you will be our guests until he's needed."

"And when will that be?" sneered Snape. "When you finally realise that you're nothing but a coward?"

"How dare you insult me!" roared Fudge and slapped Snape across the cheek. Harry winced in empathy. Snape didn't even break a sweat. Harry guessed he must have been used to worse from Voldemort.

"You think that's an insult? I wouldn't waste my breath on the likes of you."

"Show them to their accomodations," Fudge told his Aurors. "Tonight, I'll let you get settled in, but tomorrow you both work for me."

***

The room wasn't a cell. It was small but pleasantly furnished with a pale blue sofa, a table and chairs and a bed. One bed, not much bigger than a single. But there were no windows and the door behind them was locked shut with an ominous clang. There was no fireplace so they couldn't even send for help by Floo.

A half open doorway led to a small bathroom, which had a tiny shower cubicle, toilet and a basin so small Harry wasn't sure his hands would even fit in it. He and Snape exchanged glances at each other, then the bed, then each other again. Harry wouldn't mind the floor, he'd been used to worse at the Dursleys', but neither of them seemed comfortable enough to discuss it yet.

Harry sat down on the sofa, just as Snape sat at the table. The table top was so scarred it almost seemed like a pattern on the wood. "They can't just keep us here," said Harry, more to himself than Snape, but he couldn't see Dumbledore allowing both of them to be trapped here. "Dumbledore will make him release us."

Snape just stared at him, tracing his finger through the woodgrain of the table.

"Who do you think did it, professor?" Harry didn't think Madam Pomfrey knew that they were going to end up in the Ministry of Magic in a locked room.

"I think in the circumstances, Harry, you should call me Severus. We are no longer teacher and student, will no longer be that to each other."

"Um, what are we to each other?" he asked then, confused as to their roles. "What do you expect from me?" He wished he didn't blush so much as he said it.

"What do you mean, Harry?"

"Well, you're a man and men usually expect certain things. Bedroom things." He would not cry. He would not.

"Harry, I expect nothing from you. I just want to be with you, I can't deny that I desire you, for I do, but I would never push you into anything you don't want. If you want us just to be friends, then I am fine with that too. It's up to you, Harry. The decision is entirely yours. Maybe one day you'll feel comfortable enough to be intimate with me, but it will be up to you."

"I love you," said Harry. "But I'm scared. I'm scared I'll never be well enough to allow you to do that."

"Harry, there's no rush. Please don't feel you have to do things you aren't ready for, I'm not going to force you. What would you like, Harry? What do you feel comfortable with?"

"I like being held," he said shyly. "I like your arms around me, you're so strong, I feel safe when I'm in your arms. I liked being held on your lap - I like kisses too."

"Harry, I can guarantee you all the hugs and kisses you want. That will not be a problem," Snape smiled at him, and Harry couldn't help smiling back.

"But - but wouldn't it be a bit frustrating for you? Just to kiss and cuddle?" he asked and wondered at his own boldness.

Snape flushed, two high spots of colour on his cheekbones. "I am not a young man, Harry, beset by hormones all the time and I am quite capable of handling any problems that might arise," he chuckled.

"Was that a pun? You were talking about - you know - touching yourself?"

"Would it bother you that I might do that?"

"No. You're very understanding about this, I didn't think you would be. I thought men wanted sex all the time, no matter what."

"Some men are like that, yes," agreed Snape. "But I am not like other men, and neither are you."

"No, I don't suppose I am." Harry got up from the sofa and stood by Snape's chair, his fingers trailing along the back of it, wishing he had the confidence to touch Snape's hair or neck. "Can I have a hug?"

Snape stood up and embraced him so tightly that the air left his lungs. "Whenever you want," Snape whispered to his hair.

"What do you think Fudge wants me to do?" Harry lifted his head to look up at his former professor. Two deep black pools returned his gaze.

"Tomorrow? I don't know, but eventually he wants what they all do. You to defeat Voldemort. You're a weapon, Harry, a weapon almost eighteen years in the making and they want you where they can control you."

"Who?"

"The Ministry - and Dumbledore."

"Dumbledore? You don't think he has anything to do with it? Dumbledore wouldn't allow it."

"There are a lot of things Dumbledore would allow, Harry, as long as they served his ends. He's been manipulating you for years, since before you were born even. He doesn't want his perfect weapon out of his control, I smell Dumbledore's hand in this."

"No, he wouldn't, Dumbledore wouldn't do that."

"Oh, like you thought Lupin wouldn't rape you?" Snape clamped a hand over his mouth almost as soon as he said it. "Harry, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"It's okay. Please, Severus, tell me everything you know."

"Are you sure you want to hear it? It isn't pretty," sighed Snape, but he hadn't said no.

"My whole life hasn't been pretty, what's a few more secrets?"

And then Snape began to tell him about what Dumbledore had done, both to him and Lupin, how he'd manipulated the wolf in Lupin to get it done. He heard that Dobby was really someone called Master Dobain, a supernatural being that were called Immortali, how Draco and Ron helped with the Three-Fold spell.

Harry listened silently, taking everything in. After Snape finished his tale, Harry didn't feel angry, he felt numb. He could hardly believe the depths Dumbledore went to. It appalled him and why on earth did Lupin agree to it? He thought Lupin liked him, he thought he was like a grandson to Dumbledore. But what grandfather would do things like that? Did Lupin rape him in third year due to Dumbledore's orders or had he thought of that on his own?

"What did you mean when you said that he was manipulating me before I was born? Fudge said I was born to face Voldemort, but how can that be? I was just an ordinary baby until Voldemort decided to kill my parents."

"You were never an ordinary baby, Harry. Do you know anything about Muggle genetics?"

"Not a lot. What's that got to do with anything?"

"Well, sometimes when Muggles can't have children, they go through a certain process called In-Vitro-Fertilisation, have you heard of it?"

"Test-tube babies," said Harry slowly, not liking the way this conversation was heading, but he was too far gone on the journey to stop now.

"Why do you think Voldemort went after your parents, Harry? He wasn't after the Potters, he was after you. He knew you would be the only one powerful enough to destroy him and he tried to destroy you first."

"I don't understand."

"IVF in Muggles, is fairly simple, take sperm and egg and combine them. But wizards can do it all magically. They can also add a third person's DNA into the embryo, Muggles haven't been able to perfect that technique yet."

"You mean I have a third parent? But why? Why would my parents even allow that?"

"Lily and James were members of the Order of the Phoenix, Harry, soliders, they did what they were told to do. They were chosen to be your adoptive parents, the two main parents."

Harry shook his head, it was all like some sci-fi movie, a really bad one. Three parents? Who ever heard of such a thing, even if they were wizards? And the knowledge that his parents hadn't really wanted him, were just obeying orders to conceive a tool to defeat Voldemort was like ice in his veins. Only they weren't really his veins, were they?

"And the third? Who was the third?" He wasn't sure he really wanted to know, he could guess. He felt hot and cold at once, he couldn't stop shaking. Why, why had they done it? He was an abomination, he had been created not out of love as he'd always thought but out of a desire for revenge. No-one had thought about him in all of this. Not about the child Harry would be, but only what he could do for them.

"Please, take it back! Tell me it's not true!" 

"I'm sorry, Harry, you know it is true. I think in your heart you've always known it."

And hadn't he? Hadn't he always thought there was something strange about himself? Something just a little bit off besides all that Boy Who Lived nonsense?

"It wasn't the scar," he said, his voice sounding hollow. "All those times I saw him, I felt him, it wasn't the scar."

"No, Harry, it wasn't."

"Dumbledore lied to me. He told me Voldemort transferred some of his powers to me the same night I got my scar, but that was a lie. I already had the power, didn't I?"

"Yes, Harry. You did."

Harry sank to his knees, breathing as if he'd just run a marathon. It was all too much to take in, he couldn't take any more. He did the only thing he could to make it all stop.

He fainted.


	13. Chapter 13

**Thirteen**

Snape managed to get to Harry before he fell completely to the ground. Snape held him firm against his chest as Harry sagged, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. "Harry?" he shook the boy a little to try and rouse him but Harry wasn't coming round. Snape hoped Harry had only fainted and hadn't gone completely catatonic like before. That was a scary scenario he would rather not revisit while they were detained at the Ministry's pleasure.

Snape scooped Harry up in his arms. Harry was so light it was almost like lifting air. He could feel the outline of Harry's ribs and the knobs on his spine as Snape carried him to the bed. He knew that Harry hadn't been eating for a while, but feeling his bones under the skin just brought it home to him how fragile a state Harry was really in.

Harry was shivering on the bed, despite still wearing the black cloak. Snape thought the room was too hot, not cold at all. He was starting to perspire and removed his own cloak, placing it on top of Harry like a blanket. Harry could not endure too much more and Snape knew if they stayed here much longer, neither would he.

Already he felt the beginnings of a panic attack coming on, the tightness in his chest, spots before his eyes, pins and needles in his arms and legs. Air. He needed to get some air and he tried to breathe through it. In. Out. In. Out. There had to be something, they couldn't stay locked up here. There had to be a secret passageway, some way out.

Snape tried to rouse Harry once more to no avail, Harry just didn't seem to be want to be conscious and Snape could hardly blame him for that. He wandered all round the room, tapping the walls to see if any of them sounded hollow; listening at each crack in the plaster for a whistle of wind. There was nothing. The room was airtight. No, he shouldn't have thought of that. Airtight implied there was only a finite amount of air in the room. How long would it take to suffocate in here?

"There has to be something!" Snape snarled and kicked the door with his foot. It rattled on its hinges but other than that showed no sign of giving. Flecks of paint and dust swirled to the floor like confetti.

"You can't keep us here, Fudge!" he screamed, knowing they were probably being spied upon. It was that thought and the fact that he needed to look after Harry which prevented him from sinking to the floor and letting the fear overwhelm him.

For who would have thought that a Death Eater would suffer from claustrophobia? No-one else knew of it, not even Dumbledore. Snape hadn't trusted the man as far as that, not when he discovered what his duties would involve. A duty that he fervently hoped Harry never asked him about. He didn't think he could handle Harry knowing what part he had played in the boy's conception.

There was no great mystery to his condition, Snape knew exactly when it had started and who was to blame, Lucius Malfoy. When he was five years old, he was invited to Lucius Malfoy's eighth birthday party. That five year old worshipped the older boy, thinking him a pale blonde angel. Soon he was to discover that Lucius should have been born with horns and a forked tail, just to warn people.

When Malfoy suggested a game of hide and seek, Snape readily agreed and hid in one of the manor's many rooms. He didn't know until later that it had all been a trick to get him into a room that could be locked from the outside. They wanted to see how long he lasted before he would cry for his mother.

Snape had screamed himself hoarse that day, sobbing and sniffing as he tried and tried to open the door. He could hear Lucius and his older friends laughing on the other side of the door but they wouldn't open it, no matter how much he cried and begged. Snape had been terrifed that they would never open the door and he would die in there.

He was finally released close to midnight by a grinning Lucius and his friends. But in his terror, Snape had wet himself and the cruel taunts were nearly worse than being locked in had been. Malfoy never let him forget it and that day was the first time he heard the nickname, "Snivellus." It was Malfoy who had coined it, not any of the Marauders as Harry may have thought from seeing Snape's pensieve.

Snape hated being locked in, hated not being able to control his own destiny and not for the first time he wondered what on earth had possessed him to bind himself to two masters who were constantly trying to control him. Why had he ever agreed to do what Dumbledore wanted? The answer was appallingly simple. Dumbledore had flattered his fragile ego, saying that he was the only one suited for the job, the only one intelligent enough. And after all, how could Voldemort resist such a handsome boy? For seventeen year old Severus Snape, taunted and ignored by his peers in turn, the sweet lies were welcome and he allowed himself to be used, to become the Death Eater spy Dumbledore wanted. He was initiated into the Death Eaters in a matter of days. It was one of the worst mistakes of his life and he vowed that no-one, no-one was ever going to use him nor Harry again.

"Professor?" came a tired voice from the bed and Snape turned. "Are you all right? I was talking to you, but you didn't seem to hear me."

"I'm fine, Harry, I was just thinking." He paused and looked at the boy. "I thought I told you to call me Severus?"

"Sorry, it just takes a bit of getting used to. You've been 'professor' for so long in my head." Harry's stomach growled, sounding obscenely loud in the quiet room. "Sorry," said Harry again.

"When was the last time you had something to eat?" Snape searched the room, but there was no food to be had anywhere.

"I'm not really sure, sir - I mean, Severus. I couldn't keep anything down anyway so I just stopped eating. It seemed easier that way."

"Well, Fudge?" demanded Snape. "Is your hospitality so lacking that you'd allow your perfect weapon to starve? He won't be much use to you if he's dying from hunger, will he?" 

As he finished speaking, a plate of sandwhiches and two glasses of pumpkin juice materialised on the table. So it appeared that the room wasn't warded against magic, just magic performed by them. Snape filed that thought away, it might come in handy later, although he couldn't figure it out yet.

"They can hear us?" Harry almost squeaked. He stared round the room, as if expecting Aurors to pop out from the corners at any moment.

"Of course, you didn't think they'd leave us to our own devices, did you? They have to look after their investment, don't they?"

"Investment?"

"You, Harry. In order to conceive you, research was needed. Magical research is expensive and time consuming, the Ministry footed the bill."

"Then the money my parents left me..."

"Is yours. That money was from your Potter grandparents, nothing to do with the Ministry or any of this. You were Henry Potter's only grandson and he was determined that you would have no money worries once he was gone. Your money is magically protected, only you can touch it, or someone of your free choosing. Henry was a shrewd man as well as a rich one. If you were ever forced to sign away your inheritance by coercion, all the money would disappear from the vaults and be sent somewhere only you could access it. No, you needn't worry about your money, Harry. It's quite safe."

"Unlike me," said Harry, sitting down at the table and munching on one of the sandwiches. He sounded so defeated.

"You don't think you're safe, Harry?"

"No. Voldemort might kill me, or I might kill him. But what if I do kill him? What happens then? What happens once a weapon has served its purpose? I'm not a person to them, and once I've destroyed Voldemort, they will have no use for me anymore. They're hardly going to want me running around, are they? Not with bits of Voldemort inside me. They'll be too worried I'll turn into another Dark Lord. They'll kill me once I've killed Voldemort. So, no, I don't think I'm safe." Harry sighed and sipped his pumpkin juice. His eyes looked dead.

Snape just gaped at him, his mouth opening and closing like a landed fish, but he could hardly utter a sound. It had never even occurred to Snape that they might want to kill Harry if he destroyed Voldemort. But it seemed like Harry had been thinking about it. A lot. It also seemed that Harry had accepted it, that he was resigned to his fate. Snape wasn't.

Where was that rebellious, spirited boy who wandered the halls after curfew in an invisibility cloak? Sneaked food from the kitchens even though it wasn't really allowed? Explored the Forbidden Forest even though it was out of bounds? Played cat and mouse with Filch?

"Harry, you're the Boy Who Lived, the rules don't apply to you, remember? Are you just going to sit here and let them do this to you? They've used you, betrayed you. Are you just going to let them go ahead and kill you too? The rules don't apply to you. So you're not authorised to use magic in the Ministry, when has that ever stopped you before? You don't follow the rules, Harry. You break them."

Snape watched as Harry's eyes slowly brightened with some inner, jade fire. They gleamed like jewels as Harry listened to Snape's speech. Harry was listening eagerly to every word Snape spoke, as though Snape's words held the power of the universe in them. And maybe they had, for Harry pushed his chair away from the table, it clattered to the ground behind him.

Harry stood in the centre of the room, his arms outstretched, like he was summoning something. He was, Snape could feel the power crackle in the air as it flowed toward Harry. Harry was calling the power to himself, draining it from the very air, the very earth itself. Harry wasn't just a magician or a wizard now. He was the power, the magic itself. Harry's cloak swirled about him in an unseen wind and Snape could feel every hair on his body stand on end as he felt touch a fraction of that power touch him. He wasn't frightened, but he guessed that Fudge and the rest of his minions should be. Nothing would be able to stop Harry now. Harry even seemed taller, then Snape realised he was floating six inches above the floor.

Harry's face was glowing, he was smiling, enraptured. Snape had never seen such happiness on the boy's face before.

"Can you hear me, Fudge?" said Harry in a voice that was louder than loud, older than time itself. Snape was in awe. "Can you hear your weapon? Oh, but I'm not supposed to speak, am I? I'm not supposed to have feelings. I'm not even human to any of you, just an abomination you created. And that you want to destroy. Well, you won't. I'm not going to take it any more.

"I've been abused, I've been raped, all for the common good, I'm expected to sacrifice myself for the common good too, right? It's what I was born to do, how you all hoped to mould me into your perfect little tool. I've news for you Fudge, I'm a seventeen year old boy, a selfish seventeen year old boy. It is selfish of me, isn't it? I want to live, I don't want to help you.

"Do you know what happens to metal when you temper it too much? It goes brittle, it snaps. Congratulations, you can tell Dumbledore and anyone else who wants to know, that the pressure was too much. I've snapped, Fudge. I've sacrificed enough. AND. IT. ENDS. NOW!!!!"

Snape was hurled from the table in the force of the power, deaf and blind as he landed on the floor, the bright light and the booming sound the only two things he was aware of before the world went completely dark.

When he finally opened his eyes, he discovered himself in the last place on earth he ever expected to be.


	14. Chapter 14

**Fourteen**

When Arthur Weasley returned to work from his lunch break, he'd found a delightful Muggle bakery that served the most delicious bread, he found the Ministry in an uproar. All his colleagues were wandering around in a daze. Those who had managed to raise their wands to try and combat whatever the threat was, had their wands burned to ash in their hands, but they didn't seem to notice. Some still had their wands, but they were as usless as sticks. Arthur couldn't sense any magic from any of them, nor their wands.

None of them were coherent, they all seemed to be suffering from some form of hysterical insanity. Arthur did the only thing he could in the circumstances, he fire-called St. Mungo's and waited until the healers arrived. A few of his former colleagues seemed to have reverted to childhood and were running around playing tag like five year olds. A couple of times he had to restrain them, as they would quite likely wander off before the healers could get there.

The healers had never seen anything like it and deferred to Arthur as the new Minister for Magic, as no other employee was fit for any duty. Aruthur told them what he suspected, but the healers suspected it too and only needed a few tests to confirm it.

The healers nodded their heads when they were done, their wands put away again.

Not one of the Ministry employees had an ounce of magic left in their bodies. They'd all been rendered Muggle.

***

Harry tripped over something in the darkness and then banged his head on the low ceiling. Next to him, Snape cursed as he bumped into Harry and toppled them both to the ground, landing hard on Harry's back. "Where the hell are we?" asked Snape and Harry couldn't stop himself from giggling.

"Oh, my God!" he laughed wriggling and turning round so that Snape was on top of his stomach, not his back. "We're in my cupboard!"

"A cupboard?" screeched Snape. "A small enclosed space? Do you think you can get us out of here?"

The professor sounded as though he might scream at any moment. Harry had never known anyone who was calustrophobic before. It had never bothered him, being in a cupboard, he felt safe there, but obviously Snape didn't.

Harry waited until Snape stood up so he could rise from the floor and pushed the door, it opened easily. Obviously the Dursleys didn't need to lock it any more, now that their nephew no longer needed to be locked in. He and Snape were soon standing in the hallway. Snape glanced around at the obviously Muggle home in slight distaste.

"What did you do, Harry? What spell did you use to land us here?"

"I was just thinking that I wanted both of us to get home."

"And home to you was a cupboard?"

"It was, for the first ten years I spent here."

"They kept you in a cupboard?" Snape turned to the door of said cupboard and Harry knew he was looking at the locks which were still there, but no longer in use. "They locked you in? And you still thought of this place as home?"

"I was safe there," said Harry softly. "When I was locked in my cupboard, it was the only time I had to myself. It was the only time Vernon couldn't hit me. It was my refuge."

Harry glanced around the hall, the house was quiet, he didn't think anyone was at home. The house had never changed much in all his years there. The same flowery carpet on the hall and stairs, the same wallpaper and the same smell of boiled cabbage that seemed to permeate everything.

"Dumbldore knew, didn't he?" asked Snape.

"Yes, my first Hogwarts letter had the cupboard under the stairs as my address. He knew, but now I don't think he cared much. I was so relieved to get away from here, I never thought that Hogwarts would end up being so much worse."

"I didn't help much, the way I used to treat you, did I?"

"Why did you? Did you really hate my father so much?"

"I did, we were never friends, Harry, despite being in the Order together. James thought that I only got in because I slept with Dumbledore to ensure it."

"You didn't, did you?"

"No, I didn't. But that didn't seem to matter to James. He thought I'd used some sort of Dark Magic in order to seduce the headmaster, working on orders from my other master. He thought I was a Death Eater, I had the Mark, what else would I be? I couldn't like him when he was convinced that everything I said was a lie. When I saw you at Hogwarts for the first time, looking so much like James, I steeled myself to hate you and make your life as miserable as James made mine. It was petty and childish and I'm sorry. You are not your father. You have more honour, more courage in your little finger than James had in his whole body."

Snape turned and made his way down the hallway to the kitchen, eyeing all the Muggle gadgets with an avid curiosity. Harry entered behind him, smiling at Snape in the middle of something that had got to be one of his worst nightmares. "And you cooked on this thing?" he asked, looking at the hob and oven.

"Yes."

"No wonder you couldn't brew a decent potion in a cauldron, the mechanics are entirely different."

"I may not be able to brew a potion, but I can brew a decent cup of tea or coffee. Would you like one?" Harry felt no qualms about being in the Dursleys' house and using their things. Guilt was an emotion he couldn't afford right now.

"Coffee would be acceptable," said Snape. Harry filled the kettle and switched it on, searching through the cupboards until he found a jar of coffee. The Dursleys only had instant, but Harry knew the trick was to put just a bit extra into the mug to make it more palatable. He was aware of Snape watching him as he bustled about, getting cups, spoons and sugar and setting them on the worktop. The thought sent a delicious shiver through him, not quite desire, but certainly something akin to it.

"What is that?" asked Snape, eyeing the jar like one of his more volitile potions ingredients.

"Instant coffee, you just pour hot water on it and stir, adding milk and sugar if you want it."

"I take neither milk nor sugar in coffee."

"I know," said Harry as the kettle boiled. He made the coffee, adding three spoonfuls of sugar to his own, enjoying the grimace Snape gave, and handed the other cup to his former professor.

"I wonder what happened at the Ministry," mused Snape as he took a sip of the coffee.

"Don't know and frankly I don't really care at this point," said Harry. "We had to get out of there, didn't we? I don't really know what happened to me. It was as though I could feel the magic flowing through me. It felt like nothing could touch me, nothing bad. There was a protective spell around both of us, but I didn't know how I did it, does that make sense?"

"How do you feel now? Magic that strong can take a lot out of you."

"Tired. Like I haven't slept in weeks."

"So, what's next, Harry? What do we do now?"

"I don't know, I hadn't thought that far ahead. I just wanted to get us out of there and somewhere safe."

"Well, you don't expect us to stay here, do you?"

"God, no! I've done my time at Privet Drive, thank you! I doubt the Dursleys would want me back anyway. I suppose we could - we could go to the Weasleys'?" he suggested. The cup dropped from Snape's hand and he screamed, clutching at his left forearm, his whole face bathed in sweat.

"He's calling the Death Eaters," he said, white faced and tight lipped.

"You're not going," said Harry, expecting some argument about duty and honour and all that rubbish. He wasn't letting Snape out of his sight ever again. Neither of them would do anyone else's bidding, not now. What use was duty and honour when all they wanted to do was kill you?

"No, I didn't intend to. But, Harry, the Mark is cursed. If any Death Eater doesn't Apparate to Voldemort within a set amount of time, they suffer Cruciatus until the meeting finishes." Harry wondered how the man could be so calm, he was talking about it as though discussing the weather. Harry had been on the receiving end of that curse, he knew how painful it could be.

"How long until it starts?"

"It's normally fifteen minutes, but I was allowed half an hour due to being at Hogwarts, Voldemort knew I may not be able to get away as quickly as the others."

Harry wanted to scream, tear his hair out, rip Voldemort's eyes from his head. Half an hour and then God knows how many hours of torture for Snape. It was so bloody unfair! "I'm going to Apparate you to the Weasleys'," said Harry.

"You haven't got your test," gasped Snape as Harry guessed the pain flared on his arm once again. But Harry knew he had to get them both to the Burrow before Harry's scar started aching, he had no doubt that Voldemort's activities would soon have it burning in agony.

"The rules don't apply to me, remember?" he smiled and was relieved when Snape gave him a small smile in return. He wrapped his arms around Snape and Apparated them both to the Burrow. They landed in the Weasleys' kitchen, both of them still standing, but a little wobbly all the same. The house had the same quietness Harry had noticed at the Dursleys', but in Surrey, it didn't feel unnatural. Here it did. There was usually someone about.

Harry led Snape to one of the comfortable, worn sofas and looked at the wizarding clock on the wall. Ron and Ginny's hands were at the spot marked 'school', but the hands for every other Weasley was set at 'mortal peril'.

"NO! NO! NO! NO!" roared Harry. "Severus, I've got to go, I have to save them. I have to face Vold-" he didn't get any further. Agony ripped through him, starting in his scar and tearing through his entire body. It felt as though his lungs were on fire, he could hardly breathe. Harry slumped to the ground, curling in on himself to try and ease the pain. He was dimly aware of Snape screaming in agony with him, but neither were well enough to help the other. Harry couldn't move from his spot on the floor. He wasn't Harry anymore. He knew nothing but pain. He was pain. His skull split open and he cried as he fell into welcome oblivion.

***

When Harry opened his eyes, he was staring at the warm smiling face of Molly Weasley. "You're not dead," he blurted out, his first thought. And his second was that he hadn't gone to save them. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"Calm down, Harry. You're all right. Everyone is all right, so stop fretting. Poppy is tending to Severus as we speak, he hurt himself while trying to fight the Cruciatus."

"What happened?" he asked. "The clock..."

"Are you well enough to stand, Harry? I think you should take a look in the mirror."

"I'm okay," he nodded and pushed himself up from the bed he was lying on. He didn't recognise the room, it wasn't Ron's, but he thought no more of it as he walked over to the mirror above the dresser. It was a while before he realised what he was seeing. His hair was still the same messy mop he was used to, the image was a little fuzzy without his glasses, but even before asking, Molly had handed them to him. Harry shook as he put them on, feeling as if the whole world was slightly disjointed.

"Look, Harry, look," said Molly, pushing his fringe away from his forehead. A forehead that was smooth, pale and unmarked. His knees gave way, and he grabbed hold of the dresser to keep himself upright. He didn't know whether he wanted to cry, faint or throw up, or maybe all three.

It was as if the weight of the world had suddenly been lifted from his shoulders, a weight that he'd been struggling with for so long that he wasn't aware how heavy it had been until it was removed.

"How? What happened?"

"There was a battle, Harry, but Voldemort was destroyed by fifty Three-Fold spells, he couldn't handle the love that was put into the spells. He's gone for good, Harry. The Immortali saw to that."

"And Dobby? Dobby's okay?"

"He's fine, Harry. Not everyone was so lucky."

"Dumbledore," said Harry, feeling a strange hollow feeling in his chest. He wasn't feeling regret at the man's death, was he? Not after all he'd done to him and Snape? "How?"

"He committed suicide after the battle. There were so many Three-Fold blessings happening at once that some of the magics found other targets, there were a lot of suicides amont the Death Eaters too, the guilt was too much for some of them when they saw into their own dark hearts."

"Is it really over?" he asked when he could find his voice again. Maybe one day he could grieve for Dumbledore, for the man he should have been, but not now. Now he had to concentrate on getting his life back, his and Snape's. They were no-one's slave anymore.

"It is, Harry. It's over," said Molly, clasping him to her and hugging him as if she was afraid to let him go. "Voldemort's gone."


	15. Chapter 15

**Fifteen**

Snape never imagined how welcome he would feel at the Weasleys' house, but they had adopted Harry like a son, and by extension had adopted him too. Although Molly Weasley was just over a decade older than him, she acted like a mother hen both with him and Harry. Snape found himelf liking it and liking the Weasleys more the longer he and Harry stayed with them.

Arthur was rarely at home those first few weeks after Voldemort's downfall, trying to get the Ministry back on track. Except for Cornelius Fudge and the six Aurors who had first intercepted Snape and Harry's Floo, everyone else got their magic back. Snape had a sneaking suspicion that Harry's visit to St. Mungo's with Arthur one day had something to do with that, but he didn't push by asking any awkward questions.

Snape had already had two offers of employment, one from Minerva McGonagall, who was now headmistress of Hogwarts, she wanted him back to either teach Potions of Defence, his choice. Madam Hooch was also leaving and Harry had been offered the job of flying instructor, despite having left school before taking his NEWTs. They'd both discussed it, but he and Harry were both uncomfortable about the thought of going back where so many things had happened to them. The memories would be too vivid there, so they both declined Minerva's offer.

Snape's other offer came from the Ministry, from Arthur himself. He was thinking of having a new Potions research department, which he wanted Snape to head up. The offer was very tempting, Snape loved research and he would effectively be his own boss, even though part of the Ministry. He decided to wait and see as Arthur certainly wasn't in a any rush.

Snape didn't want to take Harry away from the Weasleys so soon. Harry was so happy at the Burrow, like the carefree boy he should have been allowed to be years ago. The Weasleys had already insisted that both he and Harry could stay as long as they liked, until they decided what they wanted to do with the rest of their lives. It was a heady thought, that they were actually free now to make their own decisions.

Snape smiled as he watched Harry play Quidditch with some of the Weasley brothers, Ginny was refereeing the match this time, but Snape had seen her play at Hogwarts and knew she was as good if not better than some of her brothers. He had never had such a lazy time in his life, just watching the world go by and watching Harry, zooming along so fast on his broom.

The boy was a natural flier and Snape wouldn't be surprised if he received some offers from the professional teams in the near future. Whether Harry accepted them or not was another matter. Molly came out of the house levitating a tray full of glasses and a large jug of iced lemonade just as Harry caught the golf ball they'd been using as a snitch and the match ended.

All the players drank as though they'd just been given water after days in a desert. Snape found his eyes drawn to Harry's mouth and lips, the way his throat bobbed as Harry drank his lemondade. He smiled as he noticed Snape staring and Snape flushed. He wished he was wearing his robes today instead of only black trousers and a white shirt. His body's reactions to Harry would be visible in a few moments and he tried to think of something not remotely sexy. It was difficult though.

Molly seemed to sense something in the air, for she looked at Snape, then at Harry and then back to Snape again.

"Why don't you and Severus go for for a walk before dinner, Harry? Severus hasn't seen the orchard yet, have you?"

"Great!" said Harry, downing the rest of his lemonade in one quick gulp, then pecking Molly on the cheek before clasping Snape's arm in his and leading both of them away from the house.

Molly was almost right. He and Harry had certainly been to the orchard before, but Snape hadn't really seen it, he had been too intent on kissing Harry breathless up against the trunk of the tree to pay any attention to the trees themselves. His mouth watered at the thought of getting to do that again. Harry's steps sped up so that they were almost running by the time they reached the shade of the apple and pear trees, a canopy of green leaves arching over their heads like a tunnel.

It seeemed that Harry would take every opportunity to kiss Snape whenever he could, even if there were other people watching. Snape didn't really mind being kissed in public, but he was uncomfortable when Harry did it, for every time at the first touch of Harry's lips, he was aroused. He'd rather they were in private so he wouldn't be so worried about other people seeing it.

He'd yet to feel a corresponding erection in Harry's body, but Harry kissed him with all the passion, all the fervour he could muster and Snape felt the love in those kisses, despite Harry's lack of physical arousal. Harry seemed to adore these kissing sessions as much as Snape did.

He felt a bit like a student heading off to the Astronomy tower to make out, but he'd never actually done that while he was a student, so wondered if the comparison was even accurate. Harry was dressed very casually today in a plain white tee shirt and a pair of blue jeans, hanging loose on his hips. A small band of white underwear was just about visible and Snape licked his lips as he just stared at the vision of male beauty before him

Harry's hair was windswept and his face was flushed from his exertions on the broom, sweat beaded on his upper lip, but funnily enough he wasn't sweaty anywhere else. Snape wanted to lick it off. His clothes looked as fresh as they had done first thing that morning. Snape could see that in the few weeks they'd been staying at the Weasleys', Harry had filled out a little, his chest broader and his stomach that bit fuller. He wanted so badly to see Harry bare chested, both of them wore pyjamas to bed and got changed in the bathroom, so neither had seen the other in any state of undress yet.

Snape's cock rubbed uncomfrotably against his trousers.

"I saw you watching me when I was having my lemonade," said Harry, panting a little after their small run to the orchard.

"I was jealous of that glass," said Snape. "I wanted to be the one touching your lips."

"You can," purred Harry. "I want you to." Harry leaned against a tree and held his arms out in invitation, but Snape hesitated. How could he ask this without feeling he was pushing Harry into something he wasn't ready for?

"Severus, what is it? Don't you want to kiss me?"

"Of course I do, but I wanted to ask you something."

"What?"

"Can we - can we take our shirts off?" Harry was quiet for too long. "Harry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push. We don't have to if you're not ready for that yet."

"No, it's not that. It's just, do you really want to see me? I'm - I'm scarred there. It's not very nice to look at."

"That wouldn't bother me, Harry, I'm scarred a little myself. I'm also old, saggy and out of shape."

Harry giggled, a sound Snape was determined to hear more often. "You're not old and you're certainly not out of shape. Muggle clothes don't hide you away like robes do. Okay," said Harry, tugging his tee shirt off over his head and hanging it on a nearby branch of the tree.

Harry hadn't lied, he was scarred, a network of pale pink lines criss-crossed his chest and Snape recognised the shape for he had some of the same marks on his own chest and back, marks that his former master had never allowed him to heal with magic.

"Who whipped you, Harry?" he asked softly, feeling his heart burst anew at the thought of how much hurt Harry had been through in his short life.

"My uncle, Vernon. Please, I don't want to talk about it. I just want to feel you. Please, Severus. Please."

Snape undid the top three buttons of his shirt, got impatient and just pulled the rest of it off over his head. He wanted that too, wanted to feel their bare chests pressed together as he kissed Harry. It wasn't long before he was pressing Harry back against the tree, his mouth claiming Harry's in a posessive kiss.

It was bliss, it was ecstasy, the clashing of teeth, mouth and tongues as they kissed and kissed. The soft silky feel of Harry's chest against his own was delicious, and Snape rubbed his chest against Harry's even as his lower body pressed eagerly against the softness of Harry's belly, enjoying the friction. Harry was making the most intriguing little mewling noises, Snape groaned and thrust against him even harder.

Harry bucked up against him, twining one of his legs around Snape's like a clinging vine, his hands wrapping around Snape's back. Snape couldn't bear it any longer, he had to taste Harry's bare skin. He broke off the kiss, hearing a disappointed whine from Harry, which soon turned to a gasp of surprised pleasure when Snape lowered his head and began to lick all along Harry's collar bone and down his sternum, licking and sucking in turn.

"Oh, God, don't stop!" panted Harry, his hands coming up to caress Snape's hair. Snape had no intention of stopping. Not yet anyway, not when there was so much of Harry's skin to explore. The small mole just above his right hip, the bellybutton just waiting to be filled with an eager tongue, the ribs just about visible beneath his skin. Snape spent time licking and biting them all gently. He kissed his way back up Harry's chest until he reached Harry's left nipple and sucked on the rosy nub until it stood erect in his mouth. He used his hand on the other nipple until it was in the same state and Harry was writhing against him, holding his head in place this time with a firm grip in Snape's hair.

Snape let the nipple go with a soft pop and reached up to kiss Harry again. He'd never felt so hard in his life and knew they'd better stop soon so he could make a bathroom stop before dinner. But it was so good and Harry seemed so eager to let them continue that Snape didn't stop when he should have. The inevitable was bound to happen.

Snape kissed Harry like he was drowning, and at first he was so caught up in the kiss that he didn't notice the warning signs of his impending orgasm until it was too late. His sac drew up tight and his cock ached with wanting release, Snape should have stopped it then, but Harry was so soft beneath him that he thrust even harder against him, shuddering as his release tore through him with the force of a tidal wave, soaking through his trousers and onto Harry's jeans.

Snape pulled back from Harry, horrified at what he had done. "Harry, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," said Harry. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"But - I - I used you to get off, Harry. That was wrong of me. I didn't even think if you were enjoying it."

"I was enjoying it, Severus. Very much. Just because I don't get an erection doesn't mean I don't like what we do together, I do. I'm glad you came, I'm glad I made you come. I love you, I don't mind helping you come, even if I can't. So please don't be sorry. If you do something I don't like, I will tell you. I promise."

Snape felt tears prick the corner of his eyes and turned away so that Harry wouldn't see. He loved Harry so much, but most of the time he thought it was just a dream he was having and one day he would be snatched out of it or Harry would tire of him and find someone younger.

"Severus? What is it?" asked Harry, coming up and wrapping his arms around Snape's waist, leaning his head on Snape's shoulder blade. Harry still wasn't tall enough to reach his shoulder if they were both standing up.

"I'm wondering why you want to saddle yourself with an old fool like me."

"Because I love you," said Harry and kissed the skin on his back. "And you'e not old and nor are you a fool. You just surprise me sometimes. I think we ought to get cleaned up a bit before dinner, though."

Snape nodded and took out his wand, casting a cleaning charm over both of them before turning round and kissing Harry soundly on the mouth. Harry looked dazed when he finished.

"Now, onto more serious business," said Snape, cupping Harry's head in his hands. He would never get enough of touching Harry. "What do you want for your birthday?"

"You," said Harry immediately and blushed crimson. "But failing that, surprise me."

"Oh, I intend to, Mr. Potter. I intend to."


	16. Chapter 16

**Sixteen**

 

Harry begged, Harry pleaded, Harry cajoled, Harry kissed, Harry cuddled, but it was no use. Severus remained resolute and would not reveal what Harry's birthday surprise was going to be.

"Just a hint, please Severus?" Harry asked for what might have been the hundreth time.

"No. I thought you wanted it to be a surprise?"

"I do, but I want to know what it is as well. I can't take all this suspense, bad for the heart you know."

Severus threw a pillow at him, but Harry ducked as it flew over his head so that it landed on the floor. "I'm sure your heart will be perfectly fine. You can't wait one more day?" Severus arched an eyebrow at him. "I didn't know you were so eager for your birthday."

Harry didn't answer, just lay down and snuggled closer to Severus, leaning his head on Severus' shoulder, his hands tracing a random pattern on the man's bare chest. They'd both forgone wearing anything on their top half while in bed, after that exciting day in the orchard. Harry loved it, it was divine feeling Severus' bare skin next to his own.

"Harry? Is something wrong?" Severus stroked Harry's hair as he spoke, knowing that the touches sometimes eased Harry more than words ever did. After every nightmare of Lupin, Severus didn't talk to him, would just hold him and stroke him until Harry calmed enough to get back to sleep.

"I'm a bit nervous about tomorrow," Harry admitted.

"Nervous? Why?"

"I've never had a birthday party before. I've never even been to a birthday party before." It was true, Dudley of course had birthday parties, but Harry had always been locked in his cupboard whenever they were being held. He felt so jealous of all the other children who got to play games and ate cake and sweets until they were sick. "I hate being the centre of attention. I'm afraid I'll make a fool of myself."

"I doubt that, Harry. Anyway, even if you do, it'll only be your friends there. I think there's a rule somewhere that you have to make a fool of yourself on your birthday. It's traditional, you know."

"Okay," agreed Harry. "I promise to go to my birthday party on one condition." Harry lifted his head and gave Severus an impish grin.

"Oh? What might that be?"

Harry slid further up the bed so that his face was mere inches from the man sharing the bed. He could feel little puffs of air on his cheek as Severus breathed in and out frantically. "That we have a private celebration of our own later."

Severus gasped and one handed, he tugged Harry so that Harry half fell, half sprawled on top of the larger man.

"I think that can be arranged," growled Severus, arching his neck and claiming Harry's mouth in a demanding kiss. Oh, Harry could never get enough of the man's kisses. Harry wriggled a little to try and get into a more comfortable position. Severus was stroking his back, but as Harry moved, one of Severus' hands slipped to land on the cheek of Harry's bottom. Harry, tensing, broke the kiss and stared down at him. "Please, Severus, not there. Not yet."

Severus nodded and moved his hand back up so that it was on Harry's neck and hair, caressing him, still looking deep into Harry's eyes. "I love you," said Severus before pulling Harry's head towards his own for a long, deep kiss.

Harry fell asleep that night cradled on the man's chest, the steady beating of the chest beneath him better than any lullaby.

***

"Harry!" screeched Hermione when she arrived in the Weasleys' kitchen, where Harry's party was already a few hours old. "So sorry I'm late. I had to get the Knight Bus and Stan wouldn't let me off until I'd listened to him tell the story of how he once had Harry Potter on his bus! He must have told me a hundred times, I could hardly get away. He'd talk the hind leg of a donkey, that one." Hermione said all this in a rush, barely pausing for breath herself and Harry couldn't stop the small grin from forming.

Harry gave her a quick hug. "You look well, Hermione."

"You too, Harry. Being in love certainly suits you. I've never seen you look so happy."

"I am happy," smiled Harry, his eyes scanning the room for Severus. As always, when they caught each other's eye, Harry's heart and stomach gave a funny little jolt. Harry could hardly wait until later when they would be snuggled up together on their bed in Charlie's old room. He wondered if he was being selfish, wanting to be alone with Severus all the time, but they had quite a few lost years to make up for.

Severus had already told Harry that he would give him his present in private. Harry was glad about that, he knew that Severus was a very private man. His first gift to Harry was bound to be something personal and Harry did not want to share that intimate moment with anyone else, even if they were his friends.

"Now that everyone's here," Molly Weasley gave a pointed look to Hermione, who flushed and mouthed, "Sorry." Harry really wasn't that bothered about who was there, how late they were or anything else. The party was more for everyone else than him. He was just glad that Severus was there, he didn't think he would have been able to cope with all the well-wishers on his own. Harry was still not comfortable with crowds and even though he knew everyone in the room, he was a little nervous and would be glad when it was all over and he and Severus were alone.

All the lights in the house dimmed as Molly walked to the table holding a large chocolate birthday cake. The eighteen candles on it were the only illumination in the room, casting weird shadows on the walls. Severus had moved so that his head rested on Harry's and he had his arms wrapped round Harry's waist. Harry could lean back and be pressed against that broad chest. He felt cherished and adored in the man's arms. What could Harry do for the man he loved? He smiled to himself as he blew out the candles and made his wish.

Maybe later tonight he could make it come true.

"Right, everyone, who wants cake?" asked Molly, brandishing a long knife so carelessly that everyone in the room took a step back from the table.

There were mumbles of assent from everyone, even as they stared at Molly holding the knife. Harry wasn't really hungry but he ate a little of it to appease Molly, who'd spent the morning cooking for his party. He shared the rest of the slice with Severus, feeding it to him with his fingers. Severus' eyes were smouldering with a hunger not remotely related to cake. Harry wanted nothing better than to drown in that gaze and hoped the party would end soon.

Harry and Severus sneaked off before the party had offically finished, but no-one seemed to notice, too drunk or too intent on dancing to note that the guest of honour was no longer there. Now, Harry sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed dressed in his pyjama bottoms, watching Severus as he opened and closed this drawer and that, making little noises of frurstration when he didn't seem to find what he was looking for.

Severus too was dressed for bed, in a pair of royal blue silk pyjama bottoms. He'd worn them before and Harry knew how wonderful they felt to touch. His hands itched to run his fingers all along them and he might get to touch them later tonight if Severus ever stopped looking for Harry's present. Harry's mind wasn't on presents. His mind was on how as every time Severus bent down or stood up, how the muscles of his back flexed, along with his thighs. Harry was breathless, already imagining the man pinning him to the mattress and kissing him desperately, like he wouldn't be able to survive if he couldn't kiss Harry.

"Found it," said Severus, standing up and striding to the bed. He kissed Harry once on the mouth, but finished much too soon for Harry's liking.

"Severus, come to bed," urged Harry.

"In a moment," he replied, before getting down on one knee. "Harry will you do me the honour of becoming my bonded?" Severus handed Harry a small, black velvet covered box. Harry felt as though a snitch had somehow got trapped in his chest, he could feel it there, tiny wings fluttering against his ribcage, trying to find an escape route.

"Yes," he gasped. "Yes!" Harry flung his arms around Severus' neck and planted little kisses on his cheeks, his nose, his neck, the box still clasped in his hands. How could he have answered anything else? To be bonded to Severus? To belong to him? To belong to each other?

"You haven't even seen the ring yet," Snape laughed. "My taste in jewellery might put you off!"

Harry removed his arms from around Severus and opened the box to see the ring inside. It was perfect, Harry couldn't have chosen a better one himself. The band itself was a dual one, two intertwined hoops of gold and silver in the shape of a snake, but instead of a snake's head, it was a lion's, two jewels for its eyes. One ruby and one emerald. Gryffindor and Slytherin bound together in precious metals and stones.

"It's gorgeous," said Harry. "Where do I wear it?" He had no knowledge of wizarding marriage rituals at all, but he guessed he wouldn't be remaining ignorant of them for long.

"Same as the Muggles," sniffed Severus with a hint of derision. "They stole that custom from us. It's where mine will be worn as well." 

"Oh, Severus, I'm sorry. I didn't get you one. I'll go to the jeweller's in Diagon Alley tomorrow."

"There's no need, Harry. All wizarding engagement rings are enchanted, they're part of a set. Once your ring is on, its twin will appear on my finger. Only one ring needs to be purchased, otherwise where's the surprise?"

Severus took the ring from Harry and settled it on the third finger of Harry's left hand. Almost immediately, Harry saw the glint of a matching ring on Severus' finger. Severus lifted his hand and waved it at Harry. "See?"

"So this means we're engaged now?" asked Harry, staring at his ring, hardly being able to believe what had happened.

"It does indeed," drawled Severus.

"Does that mean we can engage in some osculatory activities?" Harry grinned at him.

Severus gaped at him. "Where did you learn that word?"

"I can read a dictionary, you know. 'Osculation: a kiss, from the latin, osculare'." Harry stared at him, widening his eyes as much as he could. He knew Severus could never resist his best lost puppy expression and he did not want to be resisted.

Harry scooted up the bed, so that he was lying down against the pillows and waited for Severus to join him. The bed dipped as Severus knelt on it, straddling Harry's waist, but not quite touching his body. Harry could see that Severus was already aroused; there was a small damp patch on the front of his pyjamas and the evidence of his desire was stretching the fabric taut.

Harry swallowed and stared at the man above him. Severus lowered his head and kissed him like a man posessed. It took a few moments before Harry could clear his head enough to pull away slightly. "Severus, can I - can I taste you?"

"What?" Severus just stared at him, as if not quite believing what Harry had just said. "Merlin, Harry, I would love you to, but do you really want to do that?"

Harry nodded eagerly. He'd been thinking about it for a while, wanting to do something for Severus and wanting to know what he tasted like.

"Harry?"

"Um, I do want to, but can you tell me when you're going to come? I don't think I'll be able to swallow."

"Harry, are you sure you want to do this? I don't want you feel you have to do certain things."

"I'm sure," said Harry firmly. "Just not the coming part, okay?"

"Okay," agreed Severus as he got off Harry and lay down on his back. Severus was flushed almost purple and his chest was heaving up and down, his erection twitching within the confines of his pyjamas. Harry knelt up and pulled them off, remembering to go carefully over Severus' erection, which was soon revealed to his hungry gaze.

***

Severus Snape had never been gazed at with such intensity as he was being scrutinised by Harry that night. Just the thought of what Harry was about to do had him aching with want and need. Harry stared at his cock, then his face, then his cock again, seeming a little undecided.

"Harry, you don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"I know. It's just - I've never done it before and I'm not sure what to do."

Oh, the knowledge that Lupin had never forced Harry to do this, that Severus would be the first, the only one to ever have the pleasure of being in Harry's delicious mouth was enough to make Severus' arousal flare even more.

"Pretend it's a lollipop, just suck and lick like that, but mind the teeth."

Harry nodded and bent down, taking the head of Severus's cock in his mouth. All Severus was aware of was wet heat, suction, the flick of a tongue. He moaned and tried not to buck his hips into Harry's waiting mouth. What Harry lacked in experience, he certainly made up for in enthusiasm, sucking, slurping and licking on Severus' cock as though it was the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted. Sparks flared on every nerve ending along Severus' body and he knew he would not last long. Already he could feel a tightness coiling low down in his abdomen and at the base of his cock and sac.

"Harry, stop," he panted. Harry let go of his cock and looked up at him. The boy looked positively debauched, his whole face flushed, his lips swollen red, pre-come and saliva dripping from his mouth. Severus groaned as he took in the sight of Harry before him.

"Did I do it wrong?" Harry asked in a small voice.

"No, you did it brilliantly, Harry. But any longer and I would have came, and you said you didn't want that."

"Sorry," mumbled Harry. "I just don't think I can do that yet."

"Harry, it's okay. Don't worry about it. I'll just nip to the bathroom and take care of things." Severus tried to get up, but Harry placed his hand on his arm.

"Can you - can you do it here?"

"You want to watch me masturbate?" Oh, there was an exciting thought. Severus' cock twitched just thinking about it. It wasn't as if Harry didn't know he masturbated each morning, each night, and sometimes in the afternoon if they'd had a good long kissing session, but to have Harry watch him?

"I don't know, Harry."

"Please? Can I? I'd like to see what it's like, since I can't do it." Harry stared sadly at his groin, still flaccid. "Please."

Severus nodded, too emotional to speak, and settled down on the bed, leaning back against the headboard in a sitting position. It was a lot more comfortable than the bathroom, but he'd held off doing this in their bedroom for fear of upsetting Harry. His cock throbbed with wanting attention, any attention and he began stroking, aware of Harry's eyes on him the whole time, making it seem so much better.

His eyes fluttered closed as his orgasm neared, but Harry's green eyed gaze was locked behind his eyelids. It didn't take long before he came in copious spurts over his hand and stomach. "Harry!" he screamed as he came, feeling his heart thud like a drum in his chest.

He rode the wave and aftershocks, his whole body shuddering with release. When he opened his eyes, he found Harry staring not at his groin, but at his face. Harry traced his fingers through the come on Severus' stomach and then licked his fingers clean. "You're so beautiful when you come," said Harry and bent down to kiss him. Severus could taste himself in Harry's mouth, on his lips and tongue and moaned, wrapping his arms around Harry's back.

Severus was feeling sated and slightly guilty. Their physical relationship seemed a bit one sided, with him getting all the benefits and Harry just helping him to orgasm. He wanted to make Harry feel as good as Harry made him.

"I wish I could come," said Harry as he broke off their kiss. "It seemed as though you were enjoying it."

"Harry, I wish I could help you, but I promise you, one day, you will be able to."

"Do you think that's really true? That it'll just take time?"

"I do. Have I ever lied to you?"

"No," said Harry and bent to kiss him again.

Severus lay awake a long time that night. 

Lies of omission didn't count, did they?


	17. Chapter 17

**Seventeen**

As was expected, Molly Weasley and Hermione Granger shrieked their pleasure the next morning when Severus and Harry's engagement was discovered. Breakfast was taken up with long discussions about flowers, seating arrangements, auspicious dates for weddings and what robes they would be wearing. Fred and George grinned like madmen, no doubt thinking up some prank in order to "congratulate" Severus and Harry on their upcoming nuptials.

Ron looked paler than the porridge steaming on the table, maybe he was wondering if he should be following suit and popping the question to the Granger girl. Harry hadn't stopped smiling as he proudly showed them all his ring, then took Severus' hand and showed his as well. Severus never really saw the need for that, as both rings were identical, but he indulged Harry anyway. Harry had little indulgence in his life so far.

His heart was heavy with the secret he'd yet to tell Harry and he tried to appear as though nothing was wrong.

Severus listened to the chatter with half an ear, watching Harry's reactions. Harry smiled an nodded in all the right places, but Severus guessed that neither of them were keen on the big wedding the Weasleys seemed insistent on. Arthur caught his eye, sipping his coffee carefully.

"Might I have a word with you, Severus?" asked Arthur, rising from the table and heading towards the parlour, glancing back to see if Severus was following him. Severus took one last look at Harry, who was not able to get a word in between the two women. Harry grinned at him and waved him away, letting him know silently that he would be okay on his own for five minutes. Severus knew his discussion with Arthur would probably take longer than that.

The parlour was the only room of the Burrow that looked as though it had never seen much use. There was a large brown leather sofa and two matching armchairs, the leather shining as though it had just been recently polished or had never been used at all. There were no soot stains on the large fireplace dominating one end of the room, as though it too had not been used much.

"Severus, forgive me if I'm prying, but you don't seem happy about this engagement. Is something bothering you?"

Was it that obvious something was? Severus didn't really want to tell Harry this, but was a marriage started with secrets ever going to work? A couple of times he'd tried to tell Harry, but his nerve always failed him.

"I'm not worried about getting married to Harry, I love him," said Severus stiffly.

"I know you do, Severus. I don't doubt that for a minute, but something about this is troubling you."

"Yes," agreed Severus, in need of a confidante and he couldn't imagine telling Molly this. "But not marriage. Harry. There's something I haven't told him. I don't really want to tell him, but I feel I ought to before we get married. I'm just afraid that he will change his mind about being with me after he knows what I've done."

"Severus, what is it? What haven't you told him?"

"That I'm the reason Harry exists."

And then Severus unburdened himself to Arthur, to the secret he'd carried within himself for over eighteen years.

"Merlin's beard!" said Arthur when he'd finished his tale. "And Albus made you do that? You've got to tell Harry, Severus, you have to. It'll only be worse if he somehow finds out later.. It will be best coming from you, you know it will."

"What if Harry hates me once I tell him? I've never been so happy as I am with him, Arthur. It terrifies me, I don't deserve such bliss. It's going to be taken away from me, I can feel it."

"Now, you're just being melodramatic," sighed Arthur. "Tell, Harry, please. It'll only get worse the longer you leave it."

***

Severus tried to tell Harry on many an occasion on the months leading up to their wedding. But something would always happen to prevent it, there would be an interruption of some sort or they would end up kissing, not talking. He was only too happy to let it slide and slide until suddenly it was a week before the wedding and Severus still hadn't told Harry what had happened so long ago.

Severus returned from work, he was now heading up the Ministry's potions research division, to their shared house in Hogsmeade, deciding that tonight he was going to tell Harry everything and if Harry called off the wedding, well that was just a risk he was going to have to take.

The house was quiet, much too quiet. "Harry?" he called, but received no answer. Severus searched every room in the house, but Harry was nowhere to be found. He even checked the attic, although he was hard pressed to wonder what Harry might be doing up there, dusty and smelly place that it was.

It was as he was coming downstairs again that he noticed the crumpled up issue of the Daily Prophet on the small table at the foot of the stairs. He smoothed it out, the moving black and white picture on the front causing his heart to contract in his chest.

He was too late. His story was plastered all over the newspaper and now Harry had left him because of it.

Severus sank to his knees in despair, falling into a pit so black and deep, he could find no way out of it.

***

Harry gripped his broom handle so hard his knuckles clenched painfully. He couldn't get that vile picture out of his mind, no matter how hard or high he flew. It was rolling round in his head like his own private horror movie and he cursed the fact that he'd ever seen it. The Prophet was one of the new and improved editions, not only did the pictures move, there was sound too, like a video snapshot, the sounds almost as bad as the picture had been.

He hadn't been able to stay in the house a moment longer. He felt tainted just having looked at it. His breath caught, tears fell from his eyes, whisked away by the wind and he just wished the picture didn't exist. He wondered who had taken it, who had sent it to the Prophet and why on earth they had published it in the first place. Even now, months since his demise, Voldemort could still reach out and hurt him and Severus.

The picture was awful.

It was vile.

It was grotesque.

And it was even now in the hands of wizards and witches everywhere.

They would all see.

They would all know.

For Severus Snape, such a private, introspective man, it had to be one of his worst nightmares.

"Severus!" Harry screamed, his voice borne away by the wind as he turned his broom back round and headed for home.

***

Harry found Severus sitting by the bottom of the stairs, the newspaper crumpled in his hand. Oh, dear God, he'd seen it, seen the picture. Harry had meant to throw it out before he left. He didn't want Severus to see that, didn't want Severus to be reminded of what Voldemort had done to him. Harry guessed Severus must be feeling about the same as Harry would if he woke up one day to find an image of Lupin raping him on the front page of the Prophet.

Severus looked at him, then blinked, then blinked again. "Harry? What are you doing here?"

"I live here, remember?"

"I thought - I thought you left. You weren't here when I got home." There was no accusation in his voice, only deep pain. "I thought you left."

"I'm sorry I wasn't here, but I went flying to clear my head after seeing - seeing that filth," said Harry, pointing to the newspaper in Severus' fist. "Oh, Severus, you should have told me what he did to you."

"How could I tell you this?" Severus waved the paper at him. "What I'd allowed him to do to me on Dumbledore's orders? Or what I had to do when I got back? What must you think of me?"

"He raped you," Harry said softly, kneeling down next to his betrothed and caressing his cheek. It sometimes amazed him how much he and Severus had in common, the bad as well as the good. He knew the same pain of betrayal and fear that Severus did.

"There was no penetration, it wasn't rape," insisted Severus. "He just used my mouth to get off. I didn't say no."

"We both know that's a lie, Severus, but if it makes you feel any better about it, go ahead and think that. I've seen the picture, I've seen your tears as you tried to struggle away from him. He hurt you. You didn't want it, that makes it rape in my book. It was still a violation. Why did Dumbledore make you do that?" Harry felt his power flare angrily as he thought of all the betrayals Severus had suffered at the man's hands. He would kill him if he wasn't already dead for what he'd done, allowed to be done to Severus.

"You'll never forgive me for what I did, Harry. We may as well call off the wedding now. It's all my fault."

"You're not getting out of it that easily, Severus. Tell me, please. Nothing you say will change how I feel about you."

"How do you think they got hold of Voldemort's DNA? Who brewed the fertility potion so that Lily could get pregnant with you? I had to let Voldemort come in my mouth and collect his semen when he wasn't looking. I was the reason the Order was able to create you. If I hadn't done what I did, you wouldn't have gone through all that pain." Severus sobbed as the last words left his mouth.

Harry hugged him hard and rocked the weeping man against his body. It was a strange reversal of all the times Severus had comforted him after nightmares of Lupin and Voldemort and Harry was only too happy to return the favour.

"Severus? Is that what you wanted to tell me? What you were worried about telling me?"

His only answer was a slight nod. Severus thought Harry would leave him over this news? It wasn't exactly news to Harry, he'd suspected something like this all along, but didn't know for sure until now. A little while later, the sobbing stopped and Severus looked at him in surprise.

"Harry? You're still here?"

"I'm not going anywhere, Severus. You'd better get used to that."

"But after what I did..."

"Severus, do you really think I'd hold it against you that you helped to bring me into the world? I'm here, I'm with you and we get married next week, if you hadn't done what you did, neither of us would be where we are now, would we?"

"I suppose not," Severus agreed and Harry knew that disaster had been averted. For now at least. It wouldn't be easy, he knew that. It would be a long hard road for both of them, but Harry knew that together they could face anything. Harry still had nightmares and although Severus didn't mention them, Harry guessed he suffered from them too. How could he not after what he'd been through with Voldemort and Dumbledore?

Harry leant up to kiss him briefly, trying to lighten the mood a little. Severus was as stiff and unyielding as a plank of wood in his arms. "Oh, just thought I'd warn you. Fred and George have declared themselves in charge of your stag party."

"Not those two pranksters!" 

"Afraid so, but I did warn them to go easy on you or they'd have me to answer to."

"And what about yours?"

"Hermione is organising mine, she's insisting that because I'm the younger partner, I'm the bride and have to have a hen party. Mine will be full of women, although they might hire a male stripper," he said teasingly.

"Thinking of straying already, Mr. Potter?" Severus had a predatory gleam in his eye. "I've warned you before, I do not share what is mine. And you are most definitely mine."

As their lips met in a heated kiss, Harry didn't doubt it for a moment.


	18. Chapter 18

_You think he loves you?_

_You think you're special?_

_He hates you._

_He thinks you're filth._

_He thinks you're dirty._

_He'll leave you._

_He'll never marry you._

_You were mine first._

Harry woke up to an empty bed, the bedclothes tangled around his legs, his chest heaving for breath as he tried to will himself to calm after the nightmare, Lupin's voice ringing in his mind. He had to keep reminding himself that Lupin was dead and couldn't hurt him anymore, no matter what went on in dreams. It was a nightmare, not real. Not real.

But the empty bed was and he panicked at Severus being gone before he remembered. It was the night before their wedding and according to tradition, they were both sleeping separately tonight. Harry was at the Burrow and Severus was at their house in Hogsmeade. They wouldn't see each other until the wedding in the morning.

Harry lay back down and tried to get back to sleep, but it was no use, sleep just wouldn't come. He got up and wandered over to the wardrobe where his wedding outfit was hanging up. Everything was silk, a pair of forest green trousers, an overtunic in russet tones and a long sweeping robe of green completed the ensemble. The colours shimmered in various shades depending on the light.

Severus would be wearing an almost identical outfit, the traditional wizard wedding robes, but in the opposite colours, his tunic would be green, his trousers and outer robe would be russet. Neither of them had seen the other in their wedding finery and Harry was curious to see how the man looked in colours other than black and white. He found it hard to imagine the man in any other colour.

As the first rays of dawn filtered through the crack in the curtains, there was a tentative knock on the bedroom door.

"Harry, dear?" called the voice of Molly Weasley. "Are you up yet? Breakfast is almost ready."

"Thanks," said Harry. "I'll be down in a moment."

***

The wedding was small by wizarding standards, but even then the Weasleys had to conjure a marquee on the lawn just to house all the guests, as the house was far too small to contain everyone. Harry was still in the house, being helped to dress by Ron and Charlie, his two best men. He thought it was just a case of putting on his clothes, but no, he soon discovered that his wedding clothes had to be put on in a certain order, and incantations had to be mumbled over each item as it was donned to make sure that he and Severus would have a long and happy life together. It helped knowing that Severus was going through the same thing with his two best men, Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini.

Once his robe was draped on his frame, Ron closed the silver clasp and gave him a hug.

"Now for the wreath," said Charlie and Harry eyed the circlet of flowers in Charlie's hands with distaste. It just seemed so - well, so girly to wear a crown of flowers on his head.

Charlie laughed on seeing the expression on Harry's face. "Don't worry, Harry. Snape has to wear one too."

"You're joking, right? You're telling me that you got Severus to wear flowers in his hair? He wouldn't go for that!"

"It's traditional, of course he will. He's a pure-blood wizard, Harry. Do you really think he wouldn't do the wedding thing properly?"

Harry nodded, realising his unease didn't really come from having to wear flowers on his head, but from the knowledge that all wizarding weddings were considered invalid unless the consummation was witnessed after the bonding ceremony. First would come the joining of their hearts and souls, then there had to be the joining of their bodies. Since Harry was still impotent, he knew there was only one way it could be done. Severus was going to have to take him and Harry's knees buckled at the thought.

He tried to remind himself that it would be Severus, the man he loved. It wouldn't be a rape, but Harry was still scared all the same.

He sank down on the bed, feeling sick and faint at once.

"Harry?" asked Ron concerned. "Do you want me to fetch Madam Pomfrey?"

"No thanks, Ron. I'll be fine in a minute. Just nerves."

"There," said Charlie, settling the wreath in place. "All ready to meet your groom?"

Harry nodded, even though he wasn't at all sure that he was.

***

Dobby performed the ceremony, it was considered a great honour to have an Immortali bless the bonded couple, but Harry was just glad that it was a friend who was doing it. He called him Master Dobain out loud, but in his head he still thought of him as Dobby.

Harry barely remembered what the words were, what they'd vowed, he was so nervous, just repeating what he was supposed to and relying on Severus to know what bits were supposed to happen at each part of the ceremony. 

"These two souls are now joined," intoned Dobain after the final vows had been said. "They are bound by blood and magic and cannot now be unbound."

There was a round of applause and as it died down, Dobain indicated for the witnesses and the newly bonded couple to go into the smaller tent beside the main marquee. Harry stumbled, but Severus held him firmly by the arm.

"Harry, we don't have to go through with this," whispered Severus.

"But we won't be considered properly married without it, will we?"

"No, but I won't force you into a bedding ceremony if you do not wish it."

"I want to," said Harry more firmly than he felt. "I just wish we didn't have an audience."

Severus took Harry's hand and led him into the tent, where the twelve witnesses were already assembled. Dobain, Arthur, Molly, Ron, Charlie, Bill, Hermione, Fred, George, Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini were holding baskets of rose petals which they proceeded to scatter over the bed.

The four poster bed was draped with sheer curtains, which would give the illusion of privacy, without actually giving it. About a foot outside the bed were another set of posts with more curtains, almost like a tent within a tent.

"When you close the curtains, you won't be able to see us," Molly informed them and Harry knew without her spelling it out, that the witnesses would still be able to see them. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad if he just ignored the fact that there were twelve people out there who would be watching him and Severus consecrate their union.

Harry sat down on the bed, shortly joined by Severus. Molly waved her wand and the curtains closed around them. Severus cast a silencing spell and at Harry's confused look he answered, "They don't have to hear, just see."

"God this feels weird," said Harry, running his fingers through his hair, forgetting he still had the wreath on his head and got stuck by a thorn for his trouble. He hissed, snatching the garland off his head and throwing it to the floor beside the bed. 

"Let me see that," said Severus, taking Harry's hand in his and licking the blood from his finger. It reminded Harry of the first time they kissed, that same intent look on Severus' face as he watched Harry's eyes. Severus was looking at him so hungrily as though Harry was a dessert he wanted to devour. Harry's breath caught in his throat and he realised he wanted that too. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. Severus' gaze dark gaze always made his heart beat just that little bit faster, his breath just that little bit more uneven, his skin just that little bit more sensitive.

As Severus stared at him, Harry forgot all about anyone else. They were the only two people in the world.

"Did I tell you how kissable you look in that outfit?" sighed Severus, letting Harry's finger slide from his mouth. "I could kiss you all day."

"Please," moaned Harry, just the thought of the man's kisses sending pleasurable shivers up and down his spine. "Please, Severus. I want to make you feel so good."

"You do make me feel good, Harry. You know that."

"I want to make you come," Harry whispered and licked the shell of his ear. Severus shuddered, and Harry felt an indescribable something in the pit of his belly. Severus turned his head and claimed Harry's mouth in a hungry kiss. Harry returned it with equal fervour, wanting nothing more than to feel that mouth, those lips on his. He felt a bit as though he was flying, a strange sensation to feel on the ground. The feelings he was trying to capture were elusive though, and he moaned into Severus' mouth, trying to just get more. Harry tore his mouth away. "I want you inside me," gasped Harry. "I want you to come inside me."

"Merlin," groaned Severus, leaning his head on Harry's shoulder. "Oh, Harry, I want that."

Harry could hardly believe that Severus had agreed so readily, he thought for sure Severus would protest at least once, saying that Harry wasn't ready, but maybe they'd passed that point by now. Severus kissed him again before pushing Harry down on the pillows. Severus stood by the side of the bed, gazing at Harry with smouldering eyes. Harry's breath hitched as he felt the desire from the other man. He could see the ridge of Snape's cock straining against the front of his trousers and Harry so wanted to see it, to feel it against his skin. Harry moaned and wriggled on the bed, trying to get comfortable.

There was a strange, squirmy feeling in his chest and stomach as he thought of what they were about to do.

Severus dropped his robe to the floor before unlacing the front of his tunic and tugging it off over his head. Harry shimmied out of his own robe and undid the lacings of his tunic and did the same, feeling hot and cold at once as Severus continued to stare at him during his own disrobing.

The chest which was revealed to Harry's gaze would never win any awards for the perfect specimen of manhood, but to Harry it was beautiful. Severus was a little on the thin side, not very muscular, except for his biceps and his chest and arms were criss-crossed with pale scars from past whippings. The Dark Mark had faded from his arm when Voldemort fell, but Harry found his eyes drawn to the slightly redder skin there just the same.

Harry looked up and their gazes locked with an intensity that might have burned down the tent if Harry hadn't been in so much control of his power now. He couldn't wait any longer. Harry knelt on the bed, his hands just the right height to reach out and unbutton Snape's trousers. There were three buttons and Harry wasted no time in undoing them all. His heart was playing a weird tune on his ribs and he just wanted to touch, to see.

He tugged the trousers down over Snape's hips, smiling when Snape's black silk boxers were revealed.

"Don't you wear anything besides black and white?" laughed Harry, lightly stroking Snape's erection through the fabric. Snape hissed and held Harry's hand, but not gripping it too tightly.

"I suggest you refrain from that unless you want things to be over much sooner than anticipated."

Snape was as aroused as that? Harry nodded and sat back down on the bed, watching avidly as Snape removed his boxers and then folded all his clothes and put them on the floor. His legs were covered in fine black hairs, but he was as smooth chested as Harry. Snape's cock rose straight out of the little nest of hairs at his groin and already pre-come was glistening on the tip. Harry couldn't stop staring, but Snape didn't seem to mind and stood patiently by the bed while Harry's eyes gazed their fill.

"God, you're so beautiful, Severus," breathed Harry, looking up at him.

"I have a mirror, Harry. There's no need to flatter me."

"I'm not," protested Harry. "You are beautiful to me."

"Thank you," he said, two red roses blooming on his cheeks. "But I think you are a little over dressed, Mr. Potter-Snape," growled Severus and began to tug Harry's trousers down without further ado. Harry was only too happy to let him. He felt strange, a soft fluttering in his tummy, almost an ache, but not quite.

Severus' hands were shaking as he pulled Harry's trousers down. Harry lifted his hips up so that Severus could tug them down and off, his eyes never leaving Harry's the whole time. Harry felt as though he could drown in those deep, dark pools and he didn't want to be rescued. Snape's hand hovered at the waistband of Harry's briefs, as though waiting for Harry's permission to continue.

"Go on," said Harry. "Please." Snape didn't need telling twice and pulled them down Harry's legs. Harry felt a bit awkward with being naked in his unaroused state, but he wanted to feel Snape against his skin, not through clothes.

Sanpe gently pushed Harry back against the pillows and lay on top of him, Snape's erection falling in the hollow of Harry's hip. Harry arched his neck and pressed his mouth against Snape's. He could never get enough of kissing the man. They kissed for an eternity and Harry lost himself in the sensation of being kissed and having skin against skin, he thrust up against the man above him, twining his legs around Severus' back as though afraid he would escape.

"Severus, stop," he said between kisses. "It hurts." Something was digging into his stomach.

Severus looked down at him, concerned, his eyes widened a fraction. "Harry, you've got an erection."

"What?" gasped Harry, Severus shifted off him so that Harry could see it for himself.

"It feels almost like hurting at first, low down in your belly and sac, yes?"

"Yes," agreed Harry. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Severus smiled. "Nothing is wrong, Harry. It's just an arousal, that's how you're meant to feel."

Severus reached out and stroked Harry's erect cock. Harry had never felt anything like it, he mewled in pleasure as he was stroked and fondled by the man's capable hands. Almost of their own accord, Harry's legs widened as he stretched against Severus.

"Does it feel good?" Severus asked softly, still stroking to that same steady rhythm. With his other hand, Severus moved so that one of his fingers was teasing around Harry's entrance. Harry found himself wanting to be filled, wanting to have Severus inside him.

"No, it feels wonderful," sighed Harry, never knowing that his body would be able to give him such sensations. "Please, Severus, let me feel you in me. I want you inside."

"So eager, my Harry," smiled Severus as he rummaged about his discarded clothes for a vial of oil. Harry watched as he coated his fingers liberally, Harry flushed knowing where those fingers were going next. "Tell me if I hurt you."

Harry lay on the bed, his legs open wide, feeling wanton at how much of himself was on display, but the shocked gasp of appreciation from the man above him was worth it. Severus slowly circled his puckered entrance, rubbing and fondling, but not going in. In a few minutes Harry was writhing on the bed, desperate to be filled. "Oh, please, please!" he begged, not caring how desperate he sounded.

Severus relented on his teasing and slowly breached the entrance to Harry's body. He stiffened a little at first, but with the oil, it didn't hurt and Severus slid in easily, so Harry tried to relax as much as he could. Severus stretched him with two, three, then a fourth finger, making sure that Harry was as eager for the next stage as he could be. He kissed Harry deeply as the fourth finger went in, cutting of Harry's cry of distress. It was too much, he felt overstretched and it was getting painful, would Severus' cock be as painful inside him?

He tried to wriggle away, but Severus was too heavy on top of him. "Ssh, Harry, just relax. Bear down on my fingers, that's it." And then Severus did something to him inside, something that made the pain turn into a burst of pleasure and Harry was seeing stars.

"Oh, God! Oh, God!" Harry yelled. He was astounded at these new feelings, each one more powerful than the last. It was like being swept out to sea, wave after wave of ectasy pulsing from him. How could a body contain such joy and not combust from it? Severus was fire, he was ice and Harry did not know which would claim him first.

"Ready, Harry?" Severus asked with a smirk. Harry was boneless, melting against the bed and the man above him. He was hardly coherent enough to form a reply, he only nodded.

When he felt Severus' erection ready to enter him, he realised why Severus had used four fingers to stretch him. The man was very well endowed, but when he slid into Harry's body, after the stretching, there was no pain at all, only a great sense of fullness, of belonging, of completion.

"Severus," Harry breathed, wrapping his legs around Severus and pulling the man even further to him, as though they weren't close enough already.

"Harry," Severus was bathed in a light sheen of sweat, his hair hanging loose around his neck and shoulders. "Gods, Harry, you're so tight, so perfect." Then he moved and hit that sweet spot inside again and Harry writhed with want. "I don't think I'm going to last long." Severus gave a large thrust and Harry could feel the length of his husband fully sheathed inside him. His whole body was thrumming with what he now knew was desire.

"Then don't," said Harry. "I want to feel you come inside me. Where you belong."

Severus thrust frantically into him, moaning, his voice husky with want and Harry thrust back as well as he could, being pinned beneath the weight of him. It hardly seemed a few moments before Severus stiffened and screamed wordlessly as he came and came, filling Harry with his seed. Harry clasped the wilting cock inside him, not letting it go just yet, but eventually it slipped out no matter how much Harry wanted it to stay there. He was chasing those elusive butterflies again, sure that he'd almost caught them, if only he'd had more time.

"Gods, Harry, I'm sorry, I didn't even take time to help you before I came."

"It's okay," said Harry, disappointed that he hadn't been able to come this time, but he was sure they would get to practice more and more often. "Maybe next time."

"Next time?" queried Severus. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Well, we've finished now, haven't we? We made love already."

"Harry, did you really think that? That I would come and just leave you hanging?" Severus leant down and kissed him, such a sweet and tender kiss that Harry felt tears in his eyes. "We're lovers, Harry and there are many ways of making love." Then Severus proved his point. He moved so that one of his thighs was pressed between Harry's legs and Harry thrust blatantly against the pressure. 

Harry felt a strange urgency in his cock, almost like he was going to pee, he didn't think it could be that. He was sore and ached, and didn't really know what was going to happen or how it would feel or even if he could actually come at all. He'd never had an orgasm, but had heard descriptions of them and read about them.

"More!" Harry panted. "Oh, please, please!" He begged, unsure what he was asking for. Severus pressed down harder and began to lick and suck at the juncture of where Harry's neck met his shoulder. Harry howled.

Nothing could have prepared him for the feelings that swept through his body like a tidal wave. His cock swelled and throbbed and his whole body went into spasms as he arched up against Snape, scratching the man's back with his nails as he rode it out. "Severus, Severus! Oh! OH!" he wailed as he started orgasming for the first time ever. Four, five, six spurts as he spent himself against Snape's bare skin, his whole body shuddering and writhing with his release. He was crying too, the release of tension just too much and he hid his face on Severus' shoulder.

"Harry? Are you all right?" A soft kiss on his hair.

"I'm fine, I- I'm fine," he sobbed. "I didn't know it could be like that. That I could enjoy it."

Severus turned so that both of them were on their sides, facing each other. Severus smoothed Harry's hair away from his eyes and just stared at Harry for a long time. Somewhere in the distance a clock chimed. He didn't say anything, just held Harry until his tears subsided.

"I love you, Harry," he whispered, nuzzling Harry's neck.

"I love you too, Severus," said Harry, his throat raw, his eyelids drooping.

"Sleep, Harry," Severus said quietly and Harry drifted off in the knowledge that he was finally home.

***

Outside the confines of the bed, Master Dobain turned to the witnesses. "It is done," he said before disappearing in a flash of bright, white light, that left the witnesses temporarily blinded. He was never seen again.

The remaining eleven witnesses agreed on one thing and one thing only.

As he disappeared, they were sure they saw the shadow of wings.

THE END


End file.
